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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340601">The Mighty Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/LawrVert'>LawrVert</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Asexual Relationship, Bickering, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Enemies, Hurt/Comfort, Implied sex Aziraphale/Crowley, M/M, Major Character Death and Rebirth, Massage, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-binary/enby Beelzebub, Sharing a Bed, Wing Grooming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:22:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/LawrVert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Apocalypse was averted, Gabriel and Beelzebub are banished to Earth by their respective head offices and forced to live among humans as their powers fade and they become mortal.  Forced to rely on Aziraphale and Crowley for help, they form an uneasy alliance and learn what it means to be human.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gabriel's Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley are surprised by an unwelcome visitor, the banished Archangel Gabriel</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The storm raged on, though Aziraphale was safe in the confines of his bookshop as he watched the lightning rend the sky and the lights flicker.  He’d only left the safety of Crowley’s arms when the soft patter of rain had turned into a deluge. There was a chill in the air, and it caused goosebumps to cover his arms and a niggling disquiet in the back of his mind. Such violent storms were a rarity in London. This one held a feeling of anger in every thunderclap, as if the Almighty and all of her angels were preparing for war.</p>
<p>"Angel? I'm getting cold over here," Crowley called from the sofa in a languid and sibilant voice.</p>
<p>The storm had rather marvelously chased the few customers away, and the two of them had spent the better part of the morning making love on the sofa, wrapped up in soft blankets, sharing wine and chocolate croissants. Not even the rain could take away the rather splendid afterglow.</p>
<p>Regarding him with a fond smile, Aziraphale returned to Crowley on the sofa, who was now sitting up straight instead of sprawling languidly and watching Aziraphale with concern. Aziraphale cleared his throat pointedly, waiting for Crowley to move so he could sit behind him and allow Crowley’s lithe frame to rest against his soft body. Picking up his book, Aziraphale let out a soft sigh of contentment.</p>
<p>"Is that better, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, raising his body temperature a few degrees, employing a trick he’d learned to keep Crowley comfortable since his serpent’s nature made him terribly sensitive to cold weather.</p>
<p>“Much,” Crowley said, golden eyes fluttering closed as he wrapped his arms around the softness of his angel's middle. Aziraphale only feigned annoyance at having to adjust the way he held his book, though his frown soon melted into half-lidded eyes and a small smile.</p>
<p>In the year after the almost end of the world, they had settled into easy domesticity. Aziraphale thought it was truly lovely to be able to love Crowley as he truly deserved, wholly and unreservedly, the simple act of holding hands or kissing his cheek in public still wondrous. While the storm raged outside, they were truly safe, nestled in their perfect world of dust and old parchment, antique throw pillows and soft blankets.</p>
<p>Another thunderclap made Aziraphale jump in Crowley’s embrace.</p>
<p>"Is that your lot or mine?" Crowley chuckled, stroking his angel's belly soothingly.<br/>
Aziraphale only pretended to be annoyed as he placed his book aside to curl around Crowley like ivy coiling around a tree.</p>
<p>Aziraphale tutted and answered, "Neither. It's a natural phenomenon."</p>
<p>Just when he had finally gotten comfortable again, there was a knock on the door, and when that went unanswered, a rather insistent rapping on the window.</p>
<p>"Are you expecting anyone, angel?"</p>
<p>"No one at all. Probably a tourist who didn't bother to read the sign." Aziraphale got up, hands starting to tremble as he felt an odd prickling sensation, like icy fingertips trailing up his spine. The being who waited outside was distinctly not human with a presence that appeared powerful, but not overtly dangerous.</p>
<p>“May I help— good Lord!” Aziraphale was close to slamming the door as soon as he saw the being who waited outside in the rain, powder blue suit soaked and square jaw dusted with fine stubble.</p>
<p>“Aziraphale? Aziraphale? Who is it?” Crowley must have felt the presence and was already up on his feet and crossing to the door.</p>
<p>“Gabriel.” Aziraphale nodded curtly, pronouncing the name as if he had just bitten into a pastry only to find out it was made with salt instead of sugar. The moment he heard the name, Crowley was at his side, the sclera of his eyes gone entirely yellow and pupils narrowed to tiny slits.</p>
<p>“Don’t you touch him! What the Heaven are you doing here?!?” Crowley slipped into the gap between the two angels, pushing Aziraphale behind his back, ready to shield him from the Archangel if necessary.</p>
<p>Looking over Crowley’s shoulder, Aziraphale took note of the strained voice, the haggard and weary violet eyes. Despite obvious exhaustion and being absolutely soaking wet, he was still full of righteous pride.</p>
<p>"Relax, demon. I'm not here on official business. Trust me.”</p>
<p>“Not as far as I can throw you,” Crowley hissed, stepping closer to Gabriel.</p>
<p>“This…" Gabriel waved a hand dismissively, "establishment is the last place I want to be."</p>
<p>“What’s the matter? Did your side finally get sick of you, you arrogant—” Crowley straightened up like a cobra ready to strike, but Aziraphale squeezed his arm which made him relax a little. He was still poised to strike if needed.<br/>
Aziraphale saw the minute shift in Gabriel’s expression, almost a grimace of pain, at the mention of Heaven getting sick of him and something within him softened.<br/>
“Crowley, dear. At least let him come in out of the rain. You don’t mean to harm us, do you?” Gabriel shook his head. “Come in. I’ll put the kettle on.”</p>
<p>Crowley's manner was as amiable as boiling sulfur as he shook his head and mumbled under his breath about slipping nightshade into Gabriel’s tea.</p>
<p>“I don’t sully my celestial temple with—” Gabriel looked around the cluttered bookshop as if suspecting a trap.</p>
<p>“Right,” Aziraphale interjected, pressing a hand to his temple. “Won’t you sit down?”</p>
<p>Crowley followed Aziraphale. “We’re really doing this?” he whispered heatedly. “Inviting the man who mistreated and abducted you in for afternoon tea? Don’t be stupid, angel.”</p>
<p>“Well, we can’t very well turn him away.” Aziraphale fiddled with the tea kettle. “He looks rather lost right now.”</p>
<p>“He’s dangerous. What if he comes back with an army of really pissed off angels? I’m not sure I can protect you from that.” Crowley waved his arms, fangs showing for an instant. He was talking loud enough for Gabriel to hear quite plainly without needing his enhanced senses.</p>
<p>Gabriel held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m here alone. No one’s coming after me.” Far more quietly, as if trying to hide the fact after all, he added, “I’ve been banished.” He sank into the cushions of the sofa, moving a throw pillow and eyeing it disdainfully.</p>
<p>“Banished? For how long?” Aziraphale couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.</p>
<p>“Forever.” Gabriel sighed tiredly.</p>
<p>Aziraphale turned away from the kettle for a moment and tugged on his waistcoat. “But you’re her favorite.”</p>
<p>“Was— I was her favorite.” Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced as if he were reliving a painful memory. “When the Almighty gets angry, her wrath knows no limits. I failed to carry out her will so I got--” He trailed off, appearing noncommittal as he loosened his tie. “Michael’s in command now.”</p>
<p>"Have you considered that your banishment might have something to do with the whole destruction of a planet in the name of the Holy War?" Aziraphale asked, feeling sarcasm creep into his voice like curdled milk added to tea.</p>
<p>"No. Why should I? The Great Plan's written down." Gabriel shrugged.</p>
<p>"Have you ever thought you— I don't know — got it wrong?" Crowley asked.</p>
<p>"Impossible. That would mean—" For just a second, Gabriel faltered, then he smiled sardonically. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, demon."</p>
<p>Aziraphale felt a twinge of vindication that he hurriedly pushed aside. They were partially responsible for his failure even though his victory would have meant the end of everything. No matter what Gabriel had done, Aziraphale had to admit that he didn’t truly believe he deserved banishment. Outside, the rainstorm began to slacken, the lightning dulled to a distant rumble, as if Gabriel’s arrival on Earth had soothed Her mood.</p>
<p>“What will you do now?” Aziraphale asked.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I have no connections here. No experience with long-term missions on earth. It wasn’t my department so I never learned.” His hands rested on his knees, fingers splayed out, occasionally digging into his trousers until the knuckles turned white.</p>
<p>“You might like it here if you give it time.”</p>
<p>“What would I do?” Gabriel rubbed his brow. “I don’t think I would like being a pottery maker or a shepherd. And farming sounds completely awful.”</p>
<p>“A lot has changed in the last few millennia. I know quite a few humans who work in shops or restaurants or in very tall office buildings. For tonight, you can sleep on the sofa.”</p>
<p>Gabriel straightened his tie and frowned at the couch as if he'd been asked to lie down in a pit of sulphur.</p>
<p>“One night,” Crowley growled. “Only one night. Then, you’re out of here.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to,” Gabriel assured him, pointedly staring at the clutter of the bookshop. “Why do you keep so many of these— books?”</p>
<p>“Because I like them,” Aziraphale offered, smiling softly at the thought of his beloved treasures.</p>
<p>Gabriel took in the full measure of Aziraphale’s collection. “But what is the purpose? Historical records?”</p>
<p>“That’s one purpose, certainly. They are a record and they do teach me things, but they also inspire me. They let me see amazing visions of far off places and experience wonderful things without even leaving the shop. The dreams and ideas the humans come up with are truly astonishing.”</p>
<p>“So they entertain you.” Gabriel nodded, and Aziraphale thought the human term himbo Crowley taught him was a very apt expression for Gabriel’s clueless nature.</p>
<p>Gabriel miracled himself dry and transformed the palm of his hand into a mirror for a moment, studying his reflection and smoothing his hair. “That’s better.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale was pulled away by Crowley who whispered, "I still don't trust him. We need to get him out of here quickly.”</p>
<p>"If it makes you feel better. Alright." Aziraphale glanced back at Gabriel who stood as straight as if his spine were made of titanium.</p>
<p>"Listen, God's favorite,” Crowley began, menacingly pointing a finger at Gabriel. “If you're going to stay here for the night, you have to follow some rules. No going anywhere in the shop. Everything else is off limits except that sofa.” Crowley stepped very close and grabbed the lapels of Gabriel’s suit, beyond caring about his own safety, and hissed, tongue flicking from between his lips. “If you touch Aziraphale or even think about harming him, I will find a way to destroy you. Got that?"</p>
<p>Gabriel blinked dispassionately. "Yes, fine, demon.” Taking a step back, he brushed off his suit with a disgusted look.</p>
<p>They left him to retire for the evening, although Crowley insisted on checking on him every hour to make sure he wasn’t plotting anything. In the morning, he was still sitting in the same spot, wide awake on the couch, a pained expression on his face.</p>
<p>Aziraphale shadowed Crowley at his request, half expecting to find Gabriel had gone during the night. “Good morning, Gabriel,” Aziraphale greeted, politely setting a cup of coffee in front of him despite Crowley’s frown. “You know, when Crowley said to stay here, he didn’t literally mean you had to stay right in that spot.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I did,” Crowley asserted. “Can’t have him nosing about, sticking his wings where they don’t belong.”</p>
<p>Crowley was still convinced Gabriel was spying on them. Aziraphale knew he couldn't let his guard down even though he sensed no danger or immediate threat from Gabriel. As an angel, even if he didn’t consider himself to be a particularly good one, Aziraphale intended to treat him with compassion, though he would be glad when he was out of their sanctuary. He knew if their positions were reversed, Gabriel would never show him the same kindness, but perhaps, on some level, he enjoyed the shift in power.</p>
<p>Gabriel was still eyeing the cup with suspicion and Aziraphale reassured him. “It’s coffee. It’s not poison, though it is rather strong. Crowley likes it that way.”</p>
<p>Gabriel sniffed the liquid and let the cup warm his hands, but still did not drink from it despite the angel’s reassurances.</p>
<p>“Gabriel, have you given any thought to what you might like to do on Earth?” Aziraphale asked in an attempt to fill the awkward silence which had settled over the room like a funeral shroud.</p>
<p>“How should I know? I’m not familiar with the ways of the Earth. Wasn’t my department,” he snapped, looking wearier than Aziraphale had ever seen him look in Heaven.</p>
<p>“I think the first step is to get you settled with somewhere to live,” Aziraphale explained in an attempt to calm the other angel. “I think there was a flat close by that should serve your needs well. You’ll need to learn about the customs and etiquette of humans, about their money, their habits, everything,” Aziraphale said as he walked among the stacks nearby, rearranging books absently.</p>
<p>“He’ll stick out like a sore thumb and get himself killed,” Crowley replied, the tilt of his brow indicating he was not particularly troubled by the idea.</p>
<p>“Which is why we’re going to teach him what he needs to know.”</p>
<p>“Teach him? Have you gone mad?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's shoulder gently. “Remember how I used to be? I was cruel to you sometimes. Imagine if you hadn’t forgiven me.”</p>
<p>“Don’t ask me to forgive him,” Crowley snarled, hands balling into fists at his sides.</p>
<p>“I’m not asking that. I’m only asking that we try to help him.” Aziraphale gave him his best doe-eyed stare, and like every time he looked at Crowley that way, Crowley couldn’t refuse.</p>
<p>After a long moment, he shook his head and sighed. “All right. But only for you.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale kissed him softly. “Thank you, Crowley.”</p><hr/>
<p>They chose a flat halfway between their homes in a quiet building with a safe neighborhood of primarily working people and elderly couples. Crowley insisted they should just dump him there and let him contend with furnishing it, but Aziraphale felt it would be cruel to just leave him there to fend for himself.</p>
<p>“It’s so small,” Gabriel frowned.</p>
<p>"Not grand enough for the archangel fucking Gabriel," Crowley spat, making sure to keep himself between Gabriel and Aziraphale. Gabriel’s gaze darkened, and he looked at Crowley as if he were trying to decipher a particularly difficult set of hieroglyphics.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Aziraphale intervened, “not what you’re used to, I’d imagine, but it’s more to keep up appearances. You can’t be wandering the street at all hours after all.” Aziraphale snapped his fingers, conjuring a rather large bed with a blue duvet and pillows, a chest of drawers, nightstand and a silver-framed mirror on the wall. Another few snaps and a few lamps manifested and all the necessary objects appeared in the bathroom. “There. That’s a start. Now, we’ve covered the first month’s rent with the landlord, but—”</p>
<p>“So— humans have to pay to live in places like this?” Gabriel interrupted, nose wrinkling in distaste.</p>
<p>Crowley snorted. “Of course. You’re not in Heaven anymore. Nothing is free here.”</p>
<p>“So— what do they use for currency? Bartering livestock? Gold coins?” Gabriel looked at them with absolute seriousness.</p>
<p>"Livestock," Crowley said with mock sobriety. "So you'd better reconsider getting a job as a shepherd. I hear there's an opening in Scotland."</p>
<p>Gabriel's face twisted in disgust. "Really?"</p>
<p>“Bit out of date, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale reassured with a laugh. “Crowley was only joking. Money— the pound to be specific.”</p>
<p>“Pound of what?” Gabriel drew back a bit as if he were afraid Aziraphale was going to specify a pound of flesh.</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale sighed. “We’ll have to start at the beginning.”</p>
<p>He conjured up all the coins and notes he needed and began to explain them to Gabriel. “Now, you mustn’t carelessly wave your money about.”</p>
<p>“Right. Humans get quite worked up over their currency as I recall. Extraordinary really the value they place on these little coins and scraps of paper.” Gabriel examined them and absently rolled a coin in his palm.</p>
<p>Aziraphale insisted they stock the kitchen for Gabriel even though Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You know what he’s going to say. You’re wasting your time, angel.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale rolled his shoulders and shifted on his feet, glanced around and muttered, “Well— perhaps. But maybe in time he might learn.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale watched as Crowley made a television appear with a complete cable hookup. Aziraphale would find out much later that all the channels were cooking shows and home shopping.</p>
<p>“Oh, Crowley, are you sure this is a good idea?” Aziraphale asked. The angel never had much use for television, and the one in the bookshop was tucked in a back corner presently doing an excellent job of storing new acquisitions.</p>
<p>“It will keep him out of our hair,” he promised Aziraphale. “And maybe it will teach him something useful.”</p>
<p>“Or something dreadful,” Aziraphale scolded. “I still think it’s a terrible idea.”</p>
<p>Gabriel returned to the room and immediately crouched by the television. “Hey— is that a talking box?” he asked, obviously delighted.</p>
<p>Crowley turned it on and snorted. “Here’s the remote. Just press this button to change the channels.”</p>
<p>“Oh— now— this is remarkable. Look at this!” Once Gabriel finished flipping through the channels faster than any human eye could process visual information, he settled on a home shopping network where a very perky woman was selling wrist watches with pictures of cats.</p>
<p>Aziraphale suggested, “Perhaps you’d like to buy some new clothes.”</p>
<p>“Why would I need new clothes?” Gabriel scoffed. “These are impeccable.”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t it be nice to have some variety?” Aziraphale tried. “Those clothes are lovely but a bit formal for everyday life.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you wear the same coat for over 200 years, angel?” Crowley gently teased.</p>
<p>“Well, yes— but that’s different.”</p>
<p>“We’ll let you get settled in and get out of your hair,” Crowley said, looking almost cheerful as they left Gabriel alone.</p>
<p>“I do hope he’ll be alright by himself,” Aziraphale fretted, a deep frown creasing his brow.</p>
<p>Crowley turned to look at him, pausing as they reached the exit of the building. “Angel, he’s a billion years old. I think he’s got it covered.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one saying he’d get himself killed?”</p>
<p>Crowley stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah… might have.”</p>
<p>They agreed to check on Gabriel in the morning and returned to the bookshop to share a glass, or several glasses, of wine. As Aziraphale read aloud, Crowley’s long limbs curled around him and made him feel safe and protected, content enough to melt into him like butter seeping into a croissant. Soon he drifted off, waking only to mumble nonsense for a moment when he felt Crowley taking the book from his hands and setting it aside on the coffee table.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>In the morning, they stopped by Gabriel’s flat to make sure he was acclimating well and discuss the job Aziraphale had in mind for him. It took a few minutes for Gabriel to come to the door, but when he did, he was sweating profusely and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. Gabriel’s movements, usually so deliberate and confident, had a frenetic quality as he escorted them in, holding a large mug in a noticeably shaking hand.</p>
<p>“Come in. I was bored so I tried the coffee maker Crowley got me and— this stuff is amazing! I’ve had 37 cups.” Aziraphale and Crowley followed behind as he showed them the newly repainted wall and newly installed shelves and a stack of papers on the desk. “I’ve never felt so alive. I’ve gotten so many things done. I mean— we should’ve had this in heaven. Would have been great for productivity,” Gabriel said, almost shouting the words and emptying the contents of his silver mug in one go.</p>
<p>“So that’s what’s wrong with you.” Crowley was grinning like mad.</p>
<p>“I’ve rearranged the flat, cleaned everything, spruced it up a little, gone running three times, explored the neighborhood, watched the news, done some shopping, and started writing my<br/>
memoirs.” The words all crashed into each other at a frantic pace like derailing train cars as he talked so fast, they could barely understand his meaning.</p>
<p>“Gabriel, have you slept at all?” Aziraphale asked with a frown.</p>
<p>“Sleep? I’m too busy to sleep. I have things to do. You should try coffee sometimes. Might help with your motivation, Aziraphale.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s tone lost its warmth. “I prefer tea.”</p>
<p>“You’re missing out.” Gabriel started wiping down his countertops, completely unable to stay still.</p>
<p>“Gabriel— we wanted to talk to you about a job. It might help you focus your energy right now, and meet some humans.” Aziraphale tried a direct approach, standing in front of him.</p>
<p>“Why should I consort with lesser beings?” Gabriel walked around Aziraphale to finish polishing the countertop all while shooting him a ‘don’t get in my way’ glare.</p>
<p>“If you’re going to live here, you have to start making an effort to get to know the humans. They’re really quite fascinating and diverse.”</p>
<p>“And simple,” Gabriel scoffed.</p>
<p>“Sometimes perhaps.” Aziraphale replied. “Please try and give them a chance.”</p>
<p>“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” Gabriel answered with a deep sigh as he moved on to rearranging the cups in his cabinets. “So what is this job?”</p>
<p>“There’s a lovely market up the road that sells organic produce and imported cheese. I made some inquiries and the owner is looking for someone to assist customers with their purchases. If you do well, he might even promote you to manager.” All Gabriel’s flitting about was making Aziraphale feel exhausted so he joined Crowley at the kitchen table where the demon slouched in a chair, legs stretched out in front of him.</p>
<p>“It sounds terrible, but I like the sound of manager. When do I start?” Gabriel turned to face them, leaning against the counter.</p>
<p>“After the weekend. You need to try and get some sleep.” Aziraphale cautioned.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One Week Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel attempts to work and adjust to life as a human, makes an appeal to a higher authority, and discovers yoga.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel pulled at the green polo shirt that was one size too small and frowned at the khakis. On the front of the shirt, there was a pocket that was far too small to actually hold anything useful with a little embroidered cornucopia and the words Nature’s Bounty Market. As Gabriel walked into the small store, he noticed immediately that most of the registers were run by teenagers or very elderly ladies. A round, red-faced man waved him over to a stack of summer squash.</p><p>“Ah, Gabriel. Did you finish your new hire paperwork?” Jonathan asked him with a frown.</p><p>“Paperwork?” Gabriel asked, stalling as he summoned the documents Aziraphale had prepared for him from his kitchen table. After billions of years completing endless paperwork, he had hoped he might finally escape it on Earth.</p><p>“Yes, the paperwork you picked up when you filled out the application?” Jonathan’s left eye twitched in irritation.</p><p>“Of course,” Gabriel replied, pulling the documents from behind his back miraculously filled in with all the pertinent and falsified identification numbers and data. Even though Gabriel had technically never existed, he now had all the necessary identification documents on his person.</p><p>“Ah, good!” Jonathan looked over the documents and Gabriel tensed as the man muttered under his breath. “Everything seems to be in order.” He nodded and led Gabriel to the checkout lines.</p><p>“We’ll start you out on the registers. It’s easy work. If Mitch can do it, anyone can,” Jonathan told him, elbowing him in the ribs with no regard for personal space and pointing at a tall redheaded boy who seemed to be fighting to get his nametag on straight.</p><p>A motherly woman with graying hair named Sharon taught him how to run the register, and he was almost disappointed to find it was hours before a customer actually visited the store. The women caught up on gossip while the teenagers read comic books or looked at their phones when the boss wasn’t around.</p><p>“Is it like this all day?” he whispered to Sharon at the register behind him.</p><p>“Oh, we’ll get a few customers now and then. Most of the people in this neighborhood can’t really afford to shop in a specialty place like this. He has a few regulars.” She scanned a magazine, the type mostly consisting of advertisements for perfume and designer handbags, tutting as she scanned the headlines: “Celebrity Baby Shower Disasters” and “101 Foods you should Give Up Right Now.”</p><p>During his training period, Gabriel had accidentally sent an avalanche of cantaloupes down the aisles, some even getting out into the street during his attempts to stock. When reprimanded for letting the melons slip out into oncoming traffic, Gabriel had shrugged and replied, “You’re all so tiny and weak. I can’t help it that I’m too strong for stocking.”</p><p>Jonathan shook his head, cheeks coloring in frustration and sat down to explain the stocking procedures again, suggesting that if he wanted to keep his job, he should be more careful.</p><p>The former archangel also struggled with the cash register, trying to talk to the buttons and touch the screen, and it took several attempts for him to master it. One register did not survive the ordeal and had to be sent in for servicing. Several of the younger employees had started saying “it’s been Gabrieled” whenever something in the store malfunctioned.</p><p>Gabriel finally got fed up with the lull after cleaning and reorganizing his work station several times and went to find Jonathan. This human work was below him, but he was bored. “Hey, I need something to do until the customers come in.”</p><p>“Are you asking me for more work, Gabriel?” He clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a good lad. Why don’t you help me with inventory? Think you can handle the melons this time?”</p><p>A few minutes later, Gabriel stood unloading boxes and performing menial labor, but at least it was better than listening to the tapping of Sharon’s long nails on the counter or Mitch singing along with the music from his hidden ipod. He finished the inventory quickly and even cleaned up the aisles to make them more organized, or at least more organized by Heaven’s standards. When Gabriel returned to the checkout lines, he heard Mitch hurling insults his way under their breath. Ordinarily, he would have been tempted to smite him, but as of late, using his powers for anything more than a minor miracle exhausted him.</p><p>He watched a group of teenagers that seemed to know Mitch come into the store and nod at him. Something about the interaction made Gabriel suspicious, and he took a break, although he had no intentions of actually smoking a cigarette. “I’m going to inhale relaxing poison now,” he shouted, pleased with how easily the humans believed the deception.</p><p>He followed them to the candy aisle where he noticed the two boys pulling out a backpack and hurriedly stuffing several candy bars into it.</p><p>“I hope you’re just using that bag for transport to the register,” Gabriel said, rounding the corner with a smile.</p><p>“What’s it to you, you wanker?” The taller one said as he tried to run past Gabriel. Using a small miracle, he immobilized them, grabbed their jackets and held them in place with an iron grip.</p><p>“Are you going to kill us?” One of them asked, looking legitimately terrified of Gabriel.</p><p>“No,” he replied with a humorless chuckle. “I’m going to talk to you about right and wrong. You’re making some very bad choices. Choices that could send you to a very bad place.”</p><p>“To jail?” The smaller one asked.</p><p>“No, children. To the flaming pits of hell. Do you know what happens in hell? They torture you.” Although Gabriel was still smiling pleasantly, it was the dark, humorless smile he had fixed on the citizens of Sodom and Gomorrah. “Have you ever had your scrotum stretched over your head? That’s pretty popular down there. Even more than the beatings and flayings and burning alive. And….this is the best part.” Gabriel chuckled. “They do it over and over and over until the end of time. You don’t want that, do you?”</p><p>They shook their heads. Both teenagers were crying now and they handed over the stolen goods. Gabriel was interrupted by the sound of Jonathan clearing his throat. He turned to find a look of horror on the man’s face.</p><p>“Gabriel! That is not how we do things here! Boys, go home.” As the boys ran off, he turned to Gabriel, ruddy face redder than usual. “In my office.”</p><p>He gestured for Gabriel to sit down. “I know you’re new to the area, but I can’t have you threatening children.”</p><p>“They were stealing from you. What was I supposed to do?”</p><p>“Tell them not to do it again and send them on their way. If they try it again, call the police,” Jonathan replied with an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Understood,” Gabriel said, not at all sorry for what he had done. “So am I being promoted?”</p><p>Jonathan blinked and rubbed his balding head. “Promoted? No. You’re damn lucky I don’t fire you for what you did. Those kids will have nightmares for weeks, and we'll be lucky to avoid a lawsuit.”</p><p>“If it saves them from perdition.” Gabriel shrugged and studied his hands, much in need of a manicure. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me for stopping a crime?”</p><p>Jonathan looked at him as if he were the human equivalent of a rubix cube. “I still don’t know what makes you tick, Gabriel. I hope you're not in some sort of weird religious cult. I’m going to give you a formal reprimand, but if you make any more mistakes, you're out.”</p><p>Gabriel glowered but said nothing as he only half-listened to Jonathan drone on in his brogue about the merits of hard work and dedication. After that, Jonathan shadowed Gabriel looking for every mistake, but thanks to the use of occasional miracles, he found none.</p><p>In the next few days, Nature’s Bounty experienced a sudden increase in customers, mostly bored housewives that typically shopped at larger chain stores. It started out as one or two women coming in once a week, and soon, they were waiting outside the door in groups before the store opened. The women seemed to all go through Gabriel’s line, and when he wasn’t working on checkout, they suddenly seemed to find him with questions about the freshness of lettuce or items they couldn’t reach.</p><p>On one such morning, a blonde woman new to the store asked for him by name. “You must be Gabriel.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. “Welcome to Nature’s Bounty and what can I do for you today?” He stopped completing his inventory for a moment with a grin.</p><p>“I need some of those carrots, but they’re on the top shelf, and I just can’t reach them. You’re so tall, would you mind?”</p><p>Oblivious to the fact the woman’s eyes wandered up and down his frame, he smiled. “Right away, madame.” He reached up and got it, the small shirt pulling taut over his pecs with the movement.</p><p>“Anything else?” Gabriel handed her the can.</p><p>“I needed a can of—” her eyes wandered the shelves, “—olives from the bottom shelf, but I have back problems. Would you please help me?”</p><p>“Of course.” Bending down, he picked up the can and stood back up, turned and handed the can to the woman, noticing she had a dreamy, far-away sort of expression.</p><p>“Thank you so much,” she replied, disappearing quickly into the next aisle.</p><p>Gabriel shrugged. “She must really get emotional about canned goods.”</p><p>"Business is booming all of a sudden!” Jonathan said, scratching his head with a huge grin. "I have no idea why."</p><p>Looking at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Sharon replied with a laugh, “All the ladies in the neighborhood can’t wait to see the new sexy bloke working here. Most chaps would take advantage of the attention, but Gabriel either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.”</p><p>“Lucky bastard,” Jonathan quipped with a grin.</p>
<hr/><p>Gabriel paced around the circle of ornate symbols and candles and waited. The beam of light cast shadows on his face as he steepled his hands and closed his eyes. "This is the archangel Gabriel. I need to speak to the Almighty about an urgent matter."</p><p>Finally, a low voice bagan to speak after ten minutes of angelic choirs to fill the silence. “Speak, Gabriel, but this will be your last opportunity. The Almighty doesn't accept communications from banished angels."</p><p>"I need to appeal a divine judgment." Gabriel held himself erect just in case the Almighty was watching, even though he knew the Metatron was the official Voice of God.</p><p>Several orbs of light merged to form a face, regal, wise and ancient. There was a flash of annoyance on the Metatron's face at the request. "All divine judgments are final and cannot be reversed."</p><p>"Yes, but just hear me out— I was banished to Earth after the— after things didn't go according to plan. I did everything asked of me and I did it well for billions of years. I gave Her my love and devotion and She cast me out with nothing!"</p><p>"Watch your tongue, angel. You almost destroyed Her creation in your arrogance. She showed you mercy." The Metatron's image became larger, towering over him, yet Gabriel stood his ground.</p><p>"It wasn't my fault. How was I to know what would happen? The Almighty never bothers to share Her actual will with us in Her infinite wisdom." Gabriel was shouting now, face red and fists clenched at his sides.</p><p>"Your appeal is denied. Consider yourself fortunate She let you live."</p><p>"Wait! Please! I'm sorry!" Gabriel reached toward the beam of light desperately as the Metatron's image faded out and the light was extinguished.</p><p>Aziraphale luxuriated in a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine in his hand and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries conjured by his husband. It was their anniversary, and Crowley had gone all out for the occasion, booking the best table at the Ritz, taking him to the symphony, and now, they finally had some much needed time alone.</p><p>“Thank you, Crowley.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. I love seeing you so happy.”</p><p>“Well— there is one thing that would make me happier,” Aziraphale said with a little wiggle.</p><p>“Anything,” Crowley replied.</p><p>“You could join me.” Aziraphale leaned back a bit and opened his arms for Crowley.</p><p>Crowley looked adorably flustered as he undressed quickly, needing no more encouragement and climbed into the tub, curling against the angel’s soft body. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s middle and sighed contentedly. “Now, everything’s perfect.”</p><p>Crowley turned his head to catch the angel’s lips in a soft kiss tasting of strawberries. He caressed the angel’s belly, and the angel stroked his cheek, planting little kisses along his jaw. Aziraphale felt utterly safe in his arms and explored Crowley’s firm, slender chest with gentle fingers, occasionally adjusting his position to allow for the trading of lingering kisses. The entire world seemed to fade away for a few blissful moments until the door burst open. Gabriel stood there, causing Aziraphale to cross his arms with a look of disappointment.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Crowley flushed an intense crimson. Gabriel either failed to understand he had interrupted a romantic moment or simply didn’t care.</p><p>The former angel whimpered, clutching his stomach. “I think I might be dying.”</p><p>“Oh, dear.”</p><p>Crowley made a low noise that sounded something like a defeated hiss and miracled them both out of the bath and into clothes.</p><p>“Why don’t you lie down on the sofa and we’ll see what’s wrong.” Aziraphale guided him out of the room and before he was out of earshot, heard his husband “Why did you send him to us, Lord?”</p><p>Aziraphale performed a brief sort of examination using a miracle to check for injury or illness and found nothing immediately wrong. “What hurts?”</p><p>“My stomach. It feels like it's being torn in half, and I feel faint,” Gabriel choked out.</p><p>“When’s the last time you ate anything?” Aziraphale asked, sighing in exasperation when Gabriel started to say, “I don’t sully my celestial temple—”</p><p>“You might have to learn. Eating is rather lovely,” he assured him. “Earth has millions of foods in infinite combinations. I’m sure we’ll find something you like.”</p><p>Gabriel made a face like a toddler who has just been spoonfed castor oil. “Isn’t there any other way? Couldn’t you just remove my stomach?”</p><p>Aziraphale chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You might decide you want it later.”</p><p>Crowley helped Aziraphale search the cabinets for anything remotely edible that a former archangel might fancy. They tried marmite on toast, beans on toast, scones with jam and honey, buttered croissants, all which seemed to make Gabriel nauseous. Bananas were somewhat successful. At least he didn’t wretch trying one once they explained you had to peel them first. Pancakes were far too sweet for his taste as were most cereals. Finally, they found something remotely edible he could tolerate: porridge and plain creme crackers. He ate a few of the bland crisps and part of a bowl of porridge which seemed to settle his stomach.</p><p>Aziraphale, always in search of the best culinary delights, frowned at his choices and speculated that perhaps it was just a reaction to him never using his stomach before. Crowley, on the other hand, thought his bland choices utterly hilarious.</p><p>“Feeling better?” Aziraphale asked with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.</p><p>“Much. Thank you. Do I have to do that every time I feel the pain?” Gabriel sat up in his chair eyeing the smorgasboard they had set out rather disdainfully.</p><p>“Yes. They’re called hunger pains. Humans get them all the time.”</p><p>“I’m not human,” Gabriel said with a frown.<br/>
Aziraphale exchanged a worried glance with Crowley, but smiled pleasantly at Gabriel in an effort to be encouraging. “No, but sometimes being on Earth can influence your corporation. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”</p>
<hr/><p>When he stood before the mirror a couple of months after arriving on Earth, Gabriel noticed the lines around his eyes appeared deeper and there were a few more grey hairs. He felt older somehow, and he was starting to grow a faint beard. As he traced his jawline, the thick stubble scraped his fingertips. That simply wouldn’t do. Waving his hand, he attempted to miracle it away. This was the second attempt to perform a miracle that had failed. He was tired, he thought, and perhaps Heaven just considered shaving to be too frivolous.</p><p>His hand passed over the slight layer of padding over his belly, evidence of his consumption of food and the lack of activity. Shaking his head, he decided it was time to get back in shape. If Heaven ever recalled him, then imagine how he'd be reprimanded for damaging his corporation. Gabriel began running regularly in Saint James Park. His endurance was still a bit superior to a human’s, and the running helped him feel in control of his body which was changing, weakening daily.</p><p>One day, running early in the morning, he came upon a group of humans in all sorts of contortions. The positions looked incredibly painful to him and a few wobbled or winced, but they mostly seemed to be very relaxed as they stretched their bodies and lay on the grass with their eyes closed.</p><p>“Hey there! Are you all right?” Gabriel asked a man who had a particularly pained look, jogging in place.</p><p>“This is a yoga class. You’re welcome to join us,” the bearded man replied in between standing on one leg and raising his steepled hands to the sky.</p><p>“It looks terrible,” Gabriel frowned, but took a place beside a couple of women who gave him overly friendly smiles.</p><p>“It gets better. It’s really quite relaxing,” said the red-headed on the left who introduced herself as Beth. “Gets me away from the kids for an hour a week anyway.”</p><p>“So you do this to get away from your offspring?” he asked, trying to get into a lotus position, drawing his legs up.</p><p>Beth laughed. “That’s not the only reason. It’s good for you. Makes you more flexible, helps you focus, tones certain areas.” If her wink was supposed to convey a hidden meaning, it eluded Gabriel.</p><p>The instructor shushed them and announced it was time for quiet meditation time. He frowned at all of the humans around him lying on the grass. Noticing he hadn’t joined them, Beth looked up at him with a grin.</p><p>“This is the one time I get to be off my feet during the day .”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” he muttered, but gave in and stretched out on the grass. He had to admit, the position eased the pressure in his back, although he couldn’t really concentrate on meditating very well.</p><p>Soon, the class ended and Gabriel was invited to go for smoothies to a nearby shop. The humans seemed to find this sort of socialization invigorating as they discussed their children and their jobs and partners. Gabriel would simply smile and nod and make noncommittal remarks like “Well, isn’t that something,” every now and then, which seemed to make the humans think he was a very good listener.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 4 Months Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub arrives and seeks out the ones responsible for zir banishment</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A young man lounged under a tree and read his college physics textbook in the warm sunlight. He felt something stirring beneath him, as if the ground was moving and dismissed the notion as an illusion due to a passing train or too many drinks the night before. Skeletonized leaves trembled on the ground before the soil shifted. Probably a mole or some other creature, he thought. Sitting up, he started to gather up his blanket and paled at what he saw beneath it. A human hand poked through the soil, followed by another hand and a very dirty head.</p><p>“What the hell?!” The man cringed away from the figure that pulled itself out of the earth and dusted off its rather worn black suit and white shirt. Ze was rather slight, but despite zir small size, zir sour expression was rather intimidating.</p><p>“So very observant, aren’t we?” Ze spat out pulling twigs out of zir short black hair.</p><p>“Are you— Are you alright? Do you need help?” The young man hunted for his phone in his pocket, wondering who he should call and what facility they would take him to when he mentioned the magical person who popped out of the ground.</p><p>“What’s your name, human?” Ze tried to make zir expression as neutral as possible. This human seemed excessively easy to frighten and ze didn’t need him attracting unwanted attention by screaming or running away.</p><p>“Toby,” the young man replied, backing up. “I have to go to class now.”</p><p>"Oh, Toby. You seem like a smart young man. You know you won’t learn what you need to know from those books. Wouldn’t you like to be more than just a student? Wouldn’t you like to have time to enjoy yourself without sitting in some stuffy classroom?”</p><p>“I’m only in my first year.” The boy looked a bit confused, but Beelzebub could tell he was falling under zir spell.</p><p>“I think what you really want is to give me your wallet. Keep enough to buy yourself a pint at that pub over there then go home and watch the telly all day. Don’t you deserve a break for working so hard at your studies?”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess I have been working hard. I deserve some time off.” The young man grinned and took out his wallet, then removed a 20 pound note and tucked it into his pocket, cheerfully handing over the rest.</p><p>“That’s a good lad. Now, go away. I find your cheery disposition irritating.” Beelzebub waved him off and examined the contents of the wallet, relieved that ze still retained the ability to tempt despite feeling more resistance than usual.<br/>
Perhaps it was nothing to worry about. After all, the damnable quality of free will the humans possessed was getting stronger with every passing year. Ze was in possession of an identification card, fifty pounds, a discount card for some sort of grocery store, and a condom.</p><p>After tossing most of the contents on the ground, ze stuffed the wallet into zir pocket and went to find the ones responsible for her ending up on the godforsaken earth, taking particular glee in making a chess board fall over in the middle of a game and popping a young child’s balloon on zir way, causing it to start throwing a very dramatic temper tantrum.</p><p>Ze headed in the direction of Soho with a vague idea of where ze could find the ones responsible for zir fate, intending to make them pay.</p>
<hr/><p>Aziraphale sat across from Crowley in a little diner savoring raspberry scones while Crowley nursed a black coffee and watched him contently.</p><p>“I think I might get a few of these for later.” Aziraphale dabbed at his lips with a napkin and wiggled happily in his chair.</p><p>“Whatever you like, angel. My treat,” Crowley said, waving the server over with a fond smile.</p><p>Aziraphale’s words of thanks and answering grin faded when he saw Crowley’s face press suddenly against the table as if a great weight were pinning him down. Aziraphale knocked over his tea in his attempts to see to Crowley. “What is it? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Something’s coming.” Crowley winced and finally managed to sit up and adjust his sunglasses. “Something very angry.”</p><p>“One of yours?”</p><p>“I think so.” He caught his breath and paid the check while Aziraphale miracled the broken cup and the tea stains on the table cloth away.</p><p>“We need to get back to the bookshop,” Aziraphale told him, knowing there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Crowley safe even if it meant standing up to Satan himself. He would rather sacrifice himself and cease to exist than live without Crowley. He had begun to feel it, the vague prickling in the back of his mind, a slight unease that chilled his blood and raised gooseflesh on his arms.</p><p>Seeing Gabriel standing outside the shop waiting for them did nothing to soothe Aziraphale’s nerves, especially since the former archangel appeared anxious and out of sorts in his work clothes. “Gabriel, you look—” Aziraphale searched for the least offensive words, and finding no appropriate description, trailed off.</p><p>“Yes, I know. The outfit is hideous. I didn’t choose it.” Gabriel sighed and went into the bookshop without invitation the minute Aziraphale opened the door.</p><p>“Well, at least if you ever forget your name, it’s right there,” Crowley quipped, amused by the sizable name tag that said ‘Gabriel’ in large, blocky lettering.</p><p>Completely missing the sarcasm, Gabriel shot back, “It’s for the customers,” with an annoyed scowl.</p><p>“Did you feel it?” Aziraphale looked anxiously at Gabriel, hoping his suspicions were wrong.</p><p>“Yes, that’s why I’m here.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “Should we go to your backroom?” Gabriel glanced behind himself nervously.</p><p>“Yes, I think that would be best. Any idea who it is?”</p><p>“No idea.” He shook his head and turned to follow Aziraphale, but before they reached the backroom, the front door blew open, and a lone figure stalked in, fingertips blazing with fire.</p><p>“Hello traitors.”</p><p>Beelzebub stood in the doorway, blazing hands raised ready to strike.<br/>
Aziraphale moved automatically in front of Crowley. “Lord Beelzebub.”</p><p>“Don’t bother with the pleasantries, angel,” ze said, uttering the word as if something especially vile had died on zir tongue.</p><p>“I have to warn you that if you’re here to take Crowley, I won’t let that happen.” Crowley made a barely articulate noise of protest, then tried to push Aziraphale behind him.</p><p>“Both of you are equally responsible so both of you will pay.” Behind zir, the door slammed shut.</p><p>Aziraphale sent one of his least favorite bookshelves toppling over, intending to delay Beelzebub, but ze easily evaded it, and it merely served to make zir even angrier.</p><p>Ze raised zir hands, dark energy crackling from zir fingertips. “Because of you and your little stunt, I’ve been banished here.”</p><p>Gabriel stepped forward. “Beelzebub— wait!”</p><p>Zir fingers flexed, but ze did not unleash zir dark energy. “Don’t interfere, Gabriel!”</p><p>Gabriel held up his hands in a gesture he hoped appeared placating. “Wait! I know you’re angry.”</p><p>Beelzebub glared at him for a moment. “It would be unfortunate if I had to destroy you, too.”</p><p>He inched closer to zir, now standing between zir and Aziraphale and Crowley, though his focus was solely on Beelzebub. “Listen to me! They helped me and they can help you too. We’ll figure this out somehow.”</p><p>“I wasn’t good enough for Heaven, but I was happy in Hell. I was powerful!” Ze was shaking, but not with any chill or fear, with rage that burned white hot.</p><p>Crowley clutched Aziraphale to his chest, but just as ze launched the first attack, a great blinding light extinguished the dark flames. When they dared to look, they saw Gabriel glowing incandescent, straining against the black fire that seemed to blaze all around Beelzebub, even from zir eyes. The clash of heavenly light and hell’s wrath was a terrifying and beautiful sight. The light emanating from Gabriel grew brighter, so bright that humans on nearby streets several blocks away had to shut their eyes.</p><p>In a matter of seconds, Beelzebub hit the wall and rolled to the floor, stunned, and the light surrounding Gabriel suddenly faded as fast as a candle being snuffed out. There was a feeling, a chill in the air that made Aziraphale hold Crowley tighter for a moment. Gabriel had defeated Beelzebub at a tremendous cost. He smiled in triumph for a moment. After a few seconds, his smile faded and he swayed on his feet, hitting the ground a moment later where he lay silent and still.</p><p>“Did you feel that?” Crowley asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Aziraphale replied, glancing around, relieved to see that the battle had left most of the shop intact.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>On the floor, Beelzebub began to stir so ze was clearly not dead yet. Aziraphale studied the archangel and Prince of hell, eyes flicking from them to his precious volumes and back. Beelzebub looked weary and very small, a quiet resignation on zir face. Gabriel’s eyes were closed, and he lay on the floor, arms twisted awkwardly like a ragdoll that has been hastily discarded.<br/>
“I think Gabriel just saved our lives.”<br/>
Aziraphale knelt beside Gabriel and searched for any sign of life. It would be a cruel irony if Gabriel’s first selfless act in eons resulted in his death.</p><p>Crowley approached Beelzebub warily and stood a few paces away from zir. “If you’re planning on another attack, you’d better stay down. I won’t let you hurt Aziraphale.”</p><p>“You idiot. I can’t hurt him without my powers.” Zir body shook with a dry, mirthless laugh. “I can’t hurt a fly. Not that I would. Perfectly tolerable creatures.”</p><p>“Is he dead?” Aziraphale couldn’t read Beelzebub’s expression, though zir voice seemed casually indifferent.</p><p>Aziraphale lifted Gabriel and carried him to a sofa in the backroom. “He’s alive.”</p><p>“He’ll probably be fine.” Ze rolled zir eyes and wiped a small trickle of blood from zir forehead. “I’d wager the daft wanker’s just being a drama queen.”</p><p>Aziraphale wiped Gabriel’s brow with a cool cloth and loosened his tie, not having any idea what else he could do to help. He summoned a stethoscope from an old medical bag tucked away in a drawer and unused since he helped treat battlefield wounds ages ago. The heartbeat that should technically not exist was strong and regular. Aziraphale took the ear pieces out of his ears and set the instrument aside. He found a rapid, thready pulse at Gabriel’s wrist.</p><p>“I’m a little rusty. Perhaps we should call a human doctor?” Aziraphale proposed with a frown.</p><p>“And tell them what?” Crowley quipped. “‘Excuse me, could you please examine this archangel who got in a fight with the bloody Prince of Hell’?”</p><p>Beelzebub crossed zir arms. “No need for that. I know what’s wrong with him. What’s wrong with both of us.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked up and frowned, still wary. “You’re becoming human.” Relief washed over him at the thought. Having a demon other than Crowley around set off a mental alarm and caused a certain unpleasant prickling feeling like diving into icy water. He noticed that the feeling had started to fade the moment Beelzebub fell, but that didn’t stop him from feeling some anxiety. The bookshop was their sanctuary, afterall, more a home than anywhere else even to Crowley, and having their former supervisors there was presently destroying their safe haven.</p><p>Beelzebub nodded. “Our final punishment. Worse than any torture I could concoct. Genius really.”</p><p>Crowley circled zir. “Your punishment?! How do you think we feel having the people who tried to kill us and end the bloody world as our neighbours?”</p><p>“I don’t intend on being your neighbour. Nothing on this dustball compares to being the Prince of Hell, and I intend on finding a way off this world as soon as I can.” Ze kicked a wastebasket that made a satisfying but short lived clang that echoed in the awkward silence.“This is your fault!” Beelzebub pointed at the two of them. “Does it make you happy to see me like this?”</p><p>The two of them shook their heads and Aziraphale replied, “Of course not.” Crowley shrugged, making a series of noises consisting of only consonants.</p><p>“You finally got what you wanted. Your bosses got sacked, and you get to stay on your precious planet forever.” Ze glowered at them.</p><p>Zir gaze was murderous, and Crowley half expected Beelzebub to tear them to pieces with zir bare hands before a tired resignation came over zir. They looked at each other, having no idea what to say.</p><p>“I did my job without asking questions and I did it well,” ze growled, looking at, or rather through, the bookshop floor. “Some thank you. Not even an office party with a gold watch.” Ze walked away to stare out the bookshop window.</p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley whispered in hushed, heated tones. “We can’t leave them here?”<br/>
“What are we supposed to do? Do you want to wake with knives in your back? What if this is some kind of trick?”</p><p>"Move! I'll sit with him." Ze had crept up behind them silently and waved them away with a flick of zir hand.</p><p>“I’m not sure that’s wise—” Aziraphale replied far too quickly.</p><p>“I’m not going to finish the job if that’s what you’re worried about,” Beelzebub replied with a sigh. “He was the only one of the opposition I could almost tolerate.”</p><p>Beelzebub stayed by Gabriel’s side through the night, causing Aziraphale to fret over zir motives as they sat together in the office of the bookshop, driven from their usual spot in the back room.</p><p>“Why would a demon want to sit by an archangel? I still think ze’s up to something.” He turned to look at Crowley and poured himself another glass of brandy.</p><p>“If ze does, then technically ze’d be doing us a favor,” Crowley replied, causing Aziraphale to gasp and mutter, “Oh, Crowley,” under his breath.</p><p>Aziraphale sipped his brandy, still trying to comprehend the events of the last few minutes. “There was something in the way ze said ze could almost tolerate him. Almost like ze felt bad about what happened, but that’s impossible. The Prince of Hell doesn’t feel bad about anything.” Crowley moved to sit beside Aziraphale, long limbs tense and curled tight against him instead of spreading across the sofa.</p><p>“What do you think Beelzebub’s playing at?” Aziraphale asked, swirling the remnants of his brandy in his glass.</p><p>Crowley just downed the last of his in one go and shrugged. “I dunno, but I still wouldn’t trust zir. Even without powers, ze could be dangerous.”</p><p>“Why do you suppose it took so long for zir to arrive?”</p><p>Crowley snorted. “Probably the paperwork. Hell doesn’t usually banish people because—” He shrugged and slouched lower on the sofa. “It requires forty-three pieces of paperwork and most of those get lost and misfiled, then found and reviewed by a panel of demons if they don’t get eaten first. Lucifer has to authorize it, and since most demons are terrified of approaching him, it can take decades to get the forms signed.”</p><p>"So why did it only take four months then? Why not forty years?" Aziraphale sipped the last of his of brandy, finding the first glass had done little to quell his nerves.</p><p>Crowley shrugged and coiled a long arm around him."They fast-track things for a high-ranking demon."</p><p>Aziraphale refilled his glass and leaned against Crowley. “Heaven’s a bit more efficient. Once the Almighty orders something, well, She expects it done.”</p>
<hr/><p>When Gabriel woke, he felt like his body had been trampled by elephants. His limbs were heavy, and there was a faint throbbing at his temples. He stirred, and was relieved to find he could move, albeit slowly. His eyes opened to slits and immediately closed again.<br/>
“How long was I out?” he asked in a strained, throaty whisper.<br/>
He had rather hoped he might find himself back in heaven after standing up to Beelzebub and was sorely disappointed to find himself in the same place he passed out.</p><p>“Three days,” Aziraphale replied, concern in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Three days?!? Jonathan’s going to be so angry! I’ll be fired.” Gabriel began frantically trying to sit up.</p><p>“I called the store to let him know you had an accident. Try to keep calm.”</p><p>“I feel—” Gabriel suddenly remembered there was still a potential adversary waiting and refused to show weakness any longer despite his protesting body. He sat up and brushed off his very rumpled and dirty suit with a disgusted frown.</p><p>When he finally fixed his eyes on Beelzebub, he grinned. “Wow that was some fight. I’ve got to hand it to you, Lord Beelzebub, you almost won.” He clapped his hands slowly. “I’ve still got it.”</p><p>Looking down at his torn and stained clothes, Gabriel wrinkled his brow in disgust and attempted to miracle the stains away. “I must have hit my head pretty hard. It’s not working.”<br/>
He frowned and tried again, brow furrowed and face contorted. “I can’t perform a simple miracle.” A look of terror passed over his face.</p><p>“And you won’t be able to again, but it was quite impressive really. I haven’t seen an angel do that since the Great War.” Beelzebub stood up and crossed zir arms, looking down at Gabriel.</p><p>Gabriel’s face paled and he stood up. “That can’t be true. She wouldn’t do that! She can’t banish me here then leave me defenseless! This is your fault!” Gabriel stood and pointed at Beelzebub, driving his index finger into zir lapel.</p><p>Gabriel could only assume that it was some sort of trap, perhaps the opposition had the Prince of Hell draw him into the fight, knowing it would weaken him and cost him his miracles.</p><p>“Move your finger before I break it!” Ze threatened. “I had nothing to do with it. I lost my powers, too. Our head offices cut us off.”</p><p>“You came in here, fingertips blazing, why couldn’t you have listened to reason?” Gabriel stepped back a little, but still glared at zir.</p><p>“Do you think I knew what would happen? I’m not any happier about it than you are,” ze spat back at him.</p><p>Gabriel suddenly swayed on his feet and looked to Aziraphale for confirmation. Aziraphale steadied him and nodded. “You’re going to have to be careful trying to perform miracles. I don’t know if you still can, and if you try, it could go dreadfully wrong, even destroy you.” Gabriel could tell that Aziraphale was being as gentle as he could, but everything in Gabriel’s world was muted. Time itself seemed to have stopped as he tried to comprehend what was happening. No more effortless travel, no more conjuring what he needed, no more ability to defend himself or punish those who wronged him.</p><p>“Well, I’ll be going now,” Beelzebub said, stretching zir hands over zir head.</p><p>“Back to hell so soon?” Gabriel asked.</p><p>“You know that’s not possible you arrogant, idiotic—” Beelzebub was moving towards Gabriel as if ze intended to slug him.</p><p>“Wait— where are you going to stay?” Aziraphale asked, positioning himself almost between them.</p><p>Crowley shook his head emphatically at Aziraphale. “Not here,” he whispered.</p><p>“I don’t know yet. Maybe the park for tonight.” Ze shrugged and straightened up. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll find something.”</p><p>“Well, sounds like you two have a lot to talk about. Maybe you should go have a coffee,” Crowley quipped.</p><p>“What’s coffee?” ze asked. “Is that some sort of demonic conversion thing?” Ze backed towards the door a few paces.</p><p>“No—” Gabriel began, then paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Coffee is a drink. It makes you able to stay up for hours and think really fast. It’s great! I make the best coffee. Better than the swill the humans make.” Gabriel regarded zir for a moment. “Why don’t you come have coffee with me?”</p><p>Ze laughed bitterly. “You’d really invite me into your home after what just happened?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded. “Because angelic mercy and hospitality will always win against evil.” At least this way, he could keep his adversary in his sight and might even gain some insight into the inner workings of Hell. There was still a part of him who questioned if Beelzebub had even truly been banished at all and wasn’t just acting out some elaborate ruse.</p><p>Ze rolled zir eyes. “Keep telling yourself that. Your lot always forget about Sodom and Gomorrah and oh, never mind. Fine. I’ll go for coffee, but you’d better not try and redeem me. It won’t work.”</p><p>“Just coffee with an old adversary. Think of it as a meeting between associates.” Gabriel smiled magnanimously. “But I could put you up for a night just so you wouldn’t be left out in the cold. Consider it heavenly charity.”</p><p>“I won’t clean the dishes or keep the flat neat and tidy,” ze warned, resigned to the fact ze had no other choice at the moment but bristling visibly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t expect anything else from the Prince of Hell.” He dusted his clothing off and chuckled, winking at Aziraphale and giving him a thumbs up to let him know he had absolute control of the situation and would be watching over his adversary to make sure ze stayed out of trouble.</p><p>Aziraphale watched the two of them heading off as if they had not just attempted to murder each other in a rather dramatic battle with a perplexed expression. “Do you think we should check him for a head injury after all?”</p><p>“Nah, let them go, angel. They’ll be fine,” Crowley replied, putting a hand around his shoulders. “How about we go get some ice cream.”</p>
<hr/><p>Coffee turned into Beelzebub crashing on the couch for the night and then for a fortnight after that. More often than not, the former Prince of Hell wandered the streets or slept on park benches at first. Ze hated relying on Gabriel, so ze was in and out of his flat like a sullen ghost, leaving traces like trousers or socks strewn on the floor and plates unwashed on the counter. Cohabitation with the enemy did present an opportunity for espionage and cataloging Gabriel’s weaknesses as well as going through his wallet.</p><p>In the first few days they lived together, Gabriel had kicked Beelzebub out twice and ze had stormed out three times. Gabriel loved to remind zir of his ultimate goodness and what a kind thing he was doing allowing zir to live in his home. Once, Gabriel had bailed zir out of prison after ze was locked up for trespassing in the garden of an estate ze had sought shelter in for the night. After that, ze reluctantly agreed that it was safer for zir to stay with Gabriel.</p><p>As they rode the bus from the station, Gabriel was giving zir one of the familiar lectures ze was used to tuning out. “I know you don’t like living in my flat,” Gabriel said tiredly.</p><p>“It’s a shithole,” ze said simply, propping zir feet up on the seat in front of zir.</p><p>“You lived in hell. My flat is not that bad.” Gabriel replied defensively. “Besides, you could get hurt out there on the street and it’s getting cold.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you cared.” Beelzebub slouched lower in the seat, limbs spreading out even more.</p><p>“Yes, well— I have a responsibility as a former angel to show kindness even to forces of evil,” Gabriel stammered, losing some of his typical confidence.</p><p>Beelzebub stared out the window contemplating his words. There was something— a warmth in his tone, unguarded emotion slipping past his corporate veneer. “Fine. But why do you want me to stay so badly?” ze asked, the former archangel’s motivations always a mystery to zir.</p><p>“Maybe I want to keep an eye on an old adversary.” Gabriel sat up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.</p><p>Ze couldn’t argue with that. “A wise decision. I still might manage to corrupt half of the city.”</p><p>After a long moment, Gabriel confessed. “Just because we’re on different sides doesn’t mean I want something bad to happen to you. Besides, If I have to suffer here, I think it’s only fair for you to suffer with me.”</p><p>Beelzebub snorted and returned to staring out the window. This was interesting indeed. Gabriel was showing zir he had a weakness, a soft underbelly ze could prod. He cared about zir, probably the first person that ever had outside of being terrified of zir or finding zir useful.</p><p>For the most part after their first few weeks together, Gabriel and Beelzebub managed to coexist fairly well, or at least, they hadn’t killed each other. Gabriel decided that in general, his former enemy had a tendency toward being ill-tempered, and he quickly learned you did not talk to zir before ten in the morning without risking a string of the foulest obscenities hurled at you and the occasional pillow or dirty sock.</p><p>Beelzebub found Gabriel relentlessly annoying and motivated in the morning. Why in the heaven anyone would go jogging before the sun came up, ze had no idea. Beelzebub had slept limbs sprawled in all directions on the couch until Crowley helpfully miracled another room decorated in black and red, thick curtains designed to block out sunlight.</p><p>When he left for work, Gabriel got into the habit of leaving the morning news on at high volume, which resulted in Beelzebub getting the thickest pair of earplugs available in order to drown it out in order to stubbornly sleep through any attempts Gabriel made to rouse them including knocking, calling out, and shouting. When Gabriel made a fresh pot of coffee, he made sure to drink all of it, so the flat smelled of coffee despite the pot being empty. Crushing someone’s hope was a vital skill in Heaven.</p><p>One day, after coming home from work, Gabriel managed to find Beelzebub sprawled over most of the sofa. “Hey, Beez. Can I call you Beez?”</p><p>“No, but you’re going to anyway,” ze sighed. “Hello, Gabe.” Ze knew he hated that nickname, and seeing the way his smile faltered and his left eye twitched when ze used it provided at least a momentary satisfaction.</p><p>Sitting down on the small corner of the couch left open, Gabriel cleared his throat. “I was thinking you might want to get a job.”</p><p>“I already have a job— the corruption and temptation of humanity.” Ze peered around him at the television where a family’s car was presently being crushed on a game show.</p><p>“Yes, well. That’s not the kind of thing you can put on a resume, is it? I was thinking more like a human job— working in an office or in a store?” He grinned. “If you work hard, you might even become a manager one day, like me.”</p><p>Zir eyes traveled up and down his frame. “And have to wear that? No, thank you.”</p><p>Gabriel ignored the comment and kept on pitching ideas. “There are a ton of things you could do and you could even work the night shift.” In the back of his mind, he secretly hoped ze wouldn’t work nights as the apartment had started to feel lonely now that Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t checking in on him as much. He’d started developing more human feelings lately, a fact he found both distracting and annoying. “The fact is, my salary can’t support both of us,” he confessed, feeling oddly ashamed. He looked away from zir, waiting for a sarcastic retort that never came.</p><p>After a long silence and a drawn out sigh, ze answered. “Alright, fine. I’ll start looking tomorrow.”</p><p>“Great. I’ll see you in the morning.” Gabriel patted zir foot and stood up to change out of his work uniform and head to bed.</p><p>Beelzebub’s first job was at a chain coffee shop a few days later. At first, it had gone rather well as ze had the best record of getting customers to agree to buy extra snacks and order the larger size. “You work so hard. Don’t you deserve something nice. Treat yourself. Just this once.”</p><p>What zir supervisor thought of as being a good salesperson, Beelzebub considered practicing zir skills in temptation. Ze found the clientele generally stuck up, annoying, and rather convinced of their own importance. They complained about everything from the coffee being too hot to the coffee being too cold to the lack of appropriate vegan products. Cell phones were whipped out like pistols while the barista’s waited to take their orders, somehow managing to contain their anger and frustration.</p><p>Gabriel wisely never commented on the black and white striped apron or the ridiculous name tag. “No one can remember their goddamned names in this place,” ze had commented.</p><p>One day, after dealing with the usual horde of college students and businessmen, ze had a particularly vexing encounter with one of their regulars who was perpetually on his cell phone and generally rude to everyone.<br/>
“Excuse me, sir. May I take your order?” ze said, a very artificial smile plastered on zir face.<br/>
(They had had to watch several instructional videos about sexual harassment and workplace etiquette and safety and one particularly vexing one about customer satisfaction that had discussed the importance of smiling in detail.)</p><p>“Just a minute. I’m on an important phone call,” the silver-haired executive snapped with a dismissive wave of his hand.</p><p>“Be that as it may, I have a line of other people to wait on, so if you would give me your order or get out of line, so I can serve the other people.” Zir eyes narrowed and ze wished desperately to have zir powers back for just one moment.</p><p>“Listen, sweetie. You might not understand this, but some of us actually have to work for a living doing more important things than making coffee.”</p><p>Beelzebub smiled pleasantly, then stepped away from the register to get a cup of ice. When ze returned, ze grabbed him by the belt and dumped the cup down the front of his trousers. Seizing the nearest hot order, ze set it down, snatched his cell phone, and dunked it into the cup. “No one calls me sweetheart, you arrogant prick.”</p><p>The manager’s voice bellowed, “Beelzebub—”</p><p>“I’m fired. I know.” Ze took off zir apron and threw it on the floor on zir way out the door, middle finger raised to the sky.</p><p>Gabriel found zir that night, with a fifth of vodka and several beers. “Rough day?” he asked, offering a genuinely warm smile.</p><p>“I got fired,” ze said, pouring zirself another shot. “Sit down. Have a drink with me.” Gabriel noticed ze had thought to get an extra glass down, or ze was simply drinking for two.</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t really indulge in alcohol.”</p><p>Ze rolled zir eyes. “Of course not. You mean in six million years, you never had a single drink? Not one?”</p><p>“No. Archangels weren’t permitted to drink on Earth. And if they found it on you in Heaven, well—” He winced. “She was not pleased.”</p><p>“Well, you’re not in Heaven now and it’s never too early to start.” Ze laughed and filled a shot glass for him.</p><p>“Maybe just a small one. So what happened?” Gabriel asked, gagging as the alcohol burned his throat.</p><p>“I might have thrown ice down a customer’s trousers and put his cell phone in hot coffee. But—” ze held up a finger and waved it tipsily, “bastard was very rude. Called me sweetheart.”</p><p>“Still— you have to try harder to fit in.” Gabriel poured himself another glass. “I’m not feeling anything yet. I can’t see what the appeal is.”</p><p>“That’s because you haven’t had enough.” Ze laughed. “Give it time.” Zir speech had started to become just slightly slurred. “How did we come to this?” Beelzebub waved zir glass and sloshed liquid out.</p><p>“I think you know how—”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about that!” Ze rubbed zir temples.</p><p>“Then why bring it up?” There was a genuine and clueless curiosity in Gabriel’s voice.</p><p>“Oh, shut up, Gabriel.” Ze went silent for a while then started talking again, louder and faster than before. “Wasn’t my fault I got fired. That guy had it coming. Just sad I won’t be around in Hell to torture him.”</p><p>Gabriel actually laughed at that, his cheeks starting to look ruddy and his grin brighter. “Sometimes I really miss my powers.”</p><p>Beelzebub nodded. “Yes, me too. I miss being in charge. I’m so tired of taking orders from wankers down here.”</p><p>“I know, buddy. I know. I mean I commanded a legion of 10 million angels. Now, I manage ten slackers.”</p><p>Beelzebub’s lip twitched upward despite zir interjecting. “Not your buddy. At least you get to order someone around. This place is too clean, too orderly. I need chaos.” Slamming zir glass down to punctuate the thought, ze sighed.</p><p>“It’s not so bad here once you get used to it. There are some good things like,” Gabriel started counting them off on his fingers, “fitness clubs and yoga and Armani suits and coffee and the humans actually sort of grow on you after a while.”</p><p>“You haven’t listed one single bloody thing that would interest me.” Beelzebub reached out for the bottle at the same time and their hands brushed. Gabriel was slow withdrawing his hand, probably since his reflexes were slowed, ze thought. Leave it to a six foot tall angel not to be able to handle his alcohol. Beelzebub had moved beyond the pleasant dullness to a sort of uninhibited dizziness. “Haven’t you had enough, angel?”</p><p>Gabriel rose to the challenge. “Not even close. I feel wonderful. This alcohol is really something. Almost as good as coffee. What about you? Ready to quit?”</p><p>“Not a chance, angel,” ze replied, finishing up the bottle. “Oh no— did you drink it all?”</p><p>Gabriel shrugged. “No. You did it. Do not try and blame that on me. You know— you have nice eyes. When I saw you at the airbase without all the—” Gabriel waved his hand around his head and face. “I said ze really cleans up well.”</p><p>“I miss my flies,” ze replied. “And the boils.”</p><p>Gabriel made a disgusted face that made Beelzebub snort and both of them started laughing again.</p><p>“Kind of scares me to think about who's in charge now,” Gabriel said after retrieving a bottle with a Pirate on the label.</p><p>Beelzebub poured them both another glass and nodded. “Don’t get me started. I worry more about your lot than mine. Dagon’s not so bad. Reasonable, a good general. Better than having Hastur in charge at any rate.”</p><p>Gabriel sighed. “Michael was gunning for another try at the Apocalypse, Uriel’s ruthless, and Sandalphon was really only useful for smashing and smiting things. Never learned to use his words. Look at me. I’m Sandalphon. Smite. Smite. Smite. I used to think he was clever.” Gabriel had hopped onto the chair and was waving the bottle like a smiting rod. “Sandalphon almost got thrown out of Heaven once. This close.” Gabriel held his fingers a hairsbreadth apart for emphasis.</p><p>Beelzebub leaned forward, grinning like mad. Sandalphon always made zir feel vaguely uncomfortable. Ze imagined he made a lot of people feel that way. “Glad he didn’t end up in Hell. I would have hated putting up with him, angel.”</p><p>“Don't call me angel. Not an angel anymore. I’m just a guy.” Gabriel started to laugh at his own comment then promptly passed out, face hitting the table with a loud thunk.</p><p>“I win.” Beelzebub cackled, swiftly following Gabriel swiftly into oblivion.</p>
<hr/><p>Gabriel woke up at the table feeling as if his head had been flattened by a herd of water buffalo then hastily reinflated. Even the mercifully dimmed light felt like the brightest corridors of Heaven. Perhaps this was what dying felt like. His stomach lurched, and he stumbled into the bathroom to vomit.</p><p>Once he was finally able to catch his breath and get back on his feet, he pointed at Beelzebub who watched him from the door. “Have you come to watch me die? I know what’s happened. You— you poisoned me.”</p><p>“Poisoned you?” Beelzebub shook zir head, bearing an expression that was angry and oddly wounded. “Why would I do that?”</p><p>“You don’t need a reason. You’re a demon. You’re probably hoping if you kill an archangel, they’ll let you back into Hell.”</p><p>Rolling zir eyes, ze left him and went to the kitchen, returning with a glass and two tablets that ze dropped into a glass of water. The solution fizzed and Gabriel eyed it contemptuously.</p><p>“You’re not dying. You have a hangover. It’s what happens when humans drink too much alcohol.” Ze handed him the glass. “Here. Drink this. It will help. I’m not in much better shape than you.”</p><p>Gabriel drank the fizzy concoction reluctantly. “I’m never drinking alcohol again.”</p><p>They passed the afternoon with compresses on their foreheads, sitting on the couch watching tv at low volume once their stomachs had recovered with cartons of take away from the Indian Restaurant down the street— European mild for Gabriel and extra spicy for Beelzebub.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 6 Months Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub gets dragged along to zir first yoga class and Aziraphale and Gabriel discuss the past.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beelzebub stood beside Gabriel, or rather ze skulked beside him as they waited for the yoga class to start. "So why are we outside in the grass wearing spandex?"</p><p>"It's part of the whole mindset of yoga." Gabriel grinned and nodded at the familiar faces.</p><p>"You don't know, do you?" Beelzebub said dryly.</p><p>"No idea." He shook his head and waved or grinned as people he knew joined the class.</p><p>"Gabriel, who is this?" Beth extended a hand to Beelzebub who didn't smile but shook it.</p><p>"This is my friend— Beez," he answered. "This is zir first yoga class."</p><p>"Nice to meet you. I’m Beth. You'll have fun." A petite woman with auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail smiled kindly despite looking utterly exhausted.."This gives me a break from the kids for an hour."</p><p>Beelzebub raised an eyebrow as ze watched them all stretching with their bottoms in the air. While Gabriel was naturally very flexible, ze struggled with getting into positions and ended up falling on zir bottom more than once. “What’s the point of this again?” ze whispered.</p><p>“Relaxation and fitness,” Gabriel offered.</p><p>“Why do so few of these people look relaxed?” Beelzebub asked, peering at Gabriel from between zir arms.</p><p>“Well, Beth’s husband is a real dirtbag— at least that’s what Mary said. He doesn’t help with the kids at all and the kids drive her crazy. Oh, and poor Mary caught her husband Jim cheating on her with one of his graduate students. Then, there’s the feud between Linda and her mother and Deborah being so stressed all the time by the PTA.”</p><p>Beelzebub raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know all of this?”</p><p>“Easy. I listen,” he whispered, then added, “I have no idea what they’re talking about most of the time so I just smile and nod.”</p><p>They were invited out for smoothies afterward, and while Gabriel seemed in his element, Beelzebub mostly had zir head pillowed on zir hands when ze wasn’t looking at the television in the corner of the smoothie bar. The giggling was the worst, ze decided, and the women did a lot of that.</p><p>“So we finally get to meet you. How long have you been together?” One of them asked.</p><p>“What? No… no… definitely not. We’re not a couple. We’re just— acquaintances.”<br/>
Beelzebub sat back in zir seat. “Well, this has been so very informative, but Gabe and I must be going. Business to attend to.” Ze grasped Gabriel’s sleeve and tugged.</p><p>Gabriel looked at zir like a very confused puppy, then seeing the lethal look in Beelzebub's eyes, winked at zir. “Right. Very busy. Lots to do.”</p><p>“See you next class!” Beth called.</p><p>“Not likely, “ Beelzebub griped under zir breath.</p>
<hr/><p>When they returned, Aziraphale was waiting at their door. “Hope you don’t mind. I was in the area and I just popped by to see how you two were getting along.” He smiled anxiously.</p><p>“Beez just took zir first yoga class with me.” Gabriel grinned like mad. “I think ze liked it.” Beelzebub shook zir head and mouthed the words, “I hate yoga.”</p><p>“Ah, good. Glad to see you’re getting along.” Aziraphale nodded.</p><p>“Well, I’m feeling outnumbered— too much good in one place— so I’m going to go change out of this ridiculous outfit.” Beelzebub skulked into zir bedroom, tugging zir oversized shirt down over zir tight black yoga pants as ze went.</p><p>“I’m glad we have a few minutes to talk angel to angel.” Gabriel clapped Aziraphale’s shoulder perhaps a bit too enthusiastically and realized from the angel’s expression he was expecting the worst.</p><p>“Why don’t we sit down,” Aziraphale suggested.</p><p>“Coffee?” Gabriel started opening cabinets while Aziraphale sat down, sitting stiffly, hands clasped in his lap.</p><p>“No. Don’t trouble yourself. What did you want to talk about?”</p><p>Gabriel sat across from him, and for long moments, the only thing that could be heard was the ticking of the clock and whirring of appliances. Finally, Gabriel cleared his throat. “You’ve been good to me since I arrived even though I didn’t deserve it.”</p><p>“Yes, well, isn’t that rather the point?” Aziraphale’s expression was composed, neutral, except for the slight widening of his blue eyes. This was the first time he had ever seen Gabriel show signs of genuine gratitude other than the shallow praise he offered in heaven.</p><p>“Anyhow, I wanted to apologize for— everything.” Gabriel seemed to choke on each word, but Aziraphale could tell he was sincere.</p><p>“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. Any unkind remarks were forgotten ages ago.” Aziraphale smiled reassuringly.</p><p>“You’re being very diplomatic, Aziraphale. Have you forgotten your execution? By some miracle the hell fire didn’t work. It seemed to make you stronger. I still have no idea how you did it.” Gabriel shook his head. Aziraphale sat up straighter. Crowley had told him only vague details over the last year about his experience as Aziraphale in heaven.</p><p>“My… execution?” Just saying the words made Aziraphale pale.</p><p>“Yes, we intended to kill you for treason. Make an example of you.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair. “As unpleasant as I find the idea, it wasn’t me.”</p><p>“If it wasn’t you, then—” Gabriel searched his memories and knowledge finding no answers.</p><p>“Crowley,” Aziraphale supplied.</p><p>Gabriel jumped to his feet. “That’s why the Hellfire didn’t work! He’s immune. Tell me! How did you do it?”</p><p>Aziraphale clasped and unclasped his hands and said in a quiet voice. “One of Agnes’ prophecies said we should choose our faces wisely…”</p><p>“So it was him the entire time? You switched your corporations? I didn’t know that could be done.” Gabriel frowned. “Didn’t it bother you to inhabit a demon?”</p><p>“Well, I suspect it’s rather better than Hellfire,” the angel answered with a small quirk of his lips.</p><p>Gabriel’s face was somewhere between horridly confused and disgusted. “I’m surprised you both didn’t discorporate.”</p><p>“It was actually rather simple,” Aziraphale answered with obvious pride.</p><p>“So then if Crowley went to Heaven as you, you went to— no!” Gabriel cringed.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Michael won’t stop complaining about how you made them miracle you a bath towel. She looked absolutely terrified when she got back to Heaven— not much makes Michael terrified.”</p><p>“I still remember that expression.“ Aziraphale grinned and they both laughed, warm and genuine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 8 Months Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After struggling to acclimate, Beelzebub finally finds a job ze enjoys with Crowley's help and learns how to comfort Gabriel when he comes home with a migraine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beelzebub seemed to have a bit more trouble acclimating to Earth than Gabriel, which was not especially unusual for most demons other than Crowley. Ze worked for a brief stint at a fun fair and quite enjoyed tempting humans into buying the artery clogging foods and running the rides at double speed and backwards, so the children yelled in joy and their parents got off the ride and searched for the nearest place to empty their stomachs.</p><p>Ze worked the midway games which gave zir an odd sense of satisfaction. Hell had invented them and designed them to be unwinnable which allowed zir to spread discord in small ways through the outpouring of frustration customers experienced. The carnivals were chaotic, bright, loud, and noisy, and Beelzebub liked them, but they were infrequent.</p><p>It was one place where no one questioned zir name. Most people assumed it was some sort of stage name and let zir be. Aziraphale had suggested ze should change it before, and ze had always staunchly refused saying, “It’s a perfectly fine name if people would take the five minutes to learn how to pronounce it.”</p><p>Crowley was the one who decided to see if he could help the former Prince of Hell adapt, and so he was presently rerouting pigeons to relieve themselves on very important looking men in suits. A man made a face as a white smear fell from the sky onto his lapel then looked up and shook his fist.<br/>
Beelzebub grinned. “Nice one. I miss having powers.”</p><p>Crowley looked over at zir. “Lots of things you can do without powers to cause irritation. Humans get very easily frustrated. Let me show you one of my favorite things to do.” He pulled out a small tube and showed it to Beelzebub. “This is superglue, the strongest brand made.” Fishing out a pound from his pocket, he held it up to zir. “You take this and glue it to the sidewalk. Be careful not to get it on your fingers. Nasty business getting it to dissolve.”</p><p>Taking the coin from him and the superglue, Beelzebub knelt on the path.</p><p>“Well, go on.” Crowley grinned and waved his hand.</p><p>Beelzebub unscrewed the cap and dumped the glue out onto the back of the pound then stuck it to the cement. “Now what?”</p><p>“Now, we wait.” Crowley grinned and both of them slumped over on the bench, letting their limbs sprawl.</p><p>“Look at this poor guy,” Crowley said, pointing out a man out running who had seen and stopped to pick up the coin. He bent down and tried once, again, and strained to pry it off the ground then cursed and ran off. “You see that? Pure frustration.”</p><p>“Not bad at all. I see what you mean.” Beelzebub walked up and switched the sign for the public toilets to the wrong direction. “How about that?”</p><p>“Nice one. I should have known you’d be good at this.” Crowley stretched and stood up.</p><p>Beelzebub stood watching a woman in a uniform arguing with a businessman. She moved a bit closer. “Who is that?”</p><p>“A meter attendant. One of our better inventions. A real pain in the ass.” Crowley watched as the human was handed a ticket and told to have a nice day.</p><p>“Meter attendant? What exactly do they do?” ze asked intrigued by the idea of causing aggravation as a career.</p><p>“They go around and look for cars parked in the wrong spots or at meters where the time has expired and issue tickets,” Crowley replied.</p><p>“Go on—” Beelzebub said, leaning forward.</p>
<hr/><p>The very next week, Beelzebub had applied for the job, zir no-nonsense attitude convincing the supervisors ze was perfect for the job.</p><p>Ze came home to find all the lights off in the house and Gabriel curled on the couch. “What the heaven’s wrong with you?” Beelzebub flopped down on the couch beside his head.</p><p>“Headache. It feels like someone is smiting the inside of my skull.” Shutting his eyes again, Gabriel curled in on himself.</p><p>“Now, that’s a bit dramatic.” Ze pulled his head and shoulders into zir lap.</p><p>Gabriel opened his eyes and stared up at zir, pained expression definitely not an exaggeration. “What are you doing, Beez?”</p><p>“I’m going to try and make it feel better. At least then, I might get some peace tonight.” Despite zir teasing, she heard something like concern and fondness creeping into her voice, a fact that only infuriated her a little.</p><p>Zir hands wove into his hair, always pleasantly soft and smelling of one of the dozens of expensive hair products he used. At first it disgusted zir, but over time, it had become familiar as the smell of sulphur and damp earth had been in Hell. Ze was not particularly good at taking care of Gabriel. This sort of thing didn't come naturally to.a demon, afterall. Often, he fidgeted or complained zir touch was too firm when ze tried to give him a massage.</p><p>Zir small hands carded through his hair and slid down to knead his temples. He winced at first, and zir hands stopped abruptly and withdrew, and Beelzebub started to shift away.</p><p>“Wait.” Gabriel caught one of zir hands.</p><p>“It isn’t helping. I’m just not any good at this.” Ze hated feeling like ze failed at anything, especially where Gabriel was concerned. Ze still didn’t completely understand why. It was more than simply being competitive. Ze realized ze cared about him as smug and superior and utterly exasperating as he was.</p><p>“My headache’s getting better." Ze could tell Gabriel would have said anything to prolong the contact just a few more minutes.</p><p>It was a curse and a blessing, having these human bodies that needed to feel, needed to touch. Gabriel didn’t particularly like being touched by anyone other than Beez, a fact that somehow pleased zir</p><p>He shivered as zir fingertips massaged his forehead with lighter pressure, and looked up at zir, hair falling into zir eyes, brow furrowed in concentration.</p><p>“I’m enjoying the view,” he answered in a drowsy voice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 1 Year Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Gabriel gets attacked on a morning run, Beelzebub and Gabriel begin to grow closer. Even though they would never admit it, it's obvious to everyone else. #Bedsharing</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since he missed his morning run, Gabriel left at sunset. The park could be even more pleasant at night when it was quiet and the stars were out. Maybe he even thought one day he would feel Her looking up at those stars. "I know you can hear me even if you don't care," he said softly, gaze still fixed on the evening star.</p><p>He ran under the streetlights and towards the little footbridge, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps drowning out everything else. It made him feel disciplined as if he were back in training, and more than that, it made him feel more in control of his body that was changing and aging more rapidly than a normal human’s.</p><p>A man barely out of his teens shouted at him from under the bridge. He stopped and turned to look at him and offer an appropriate greeting when a second and a third man approached from the other side.</p><p>“Gentlemen, lovely evening, isn’t it?”</p><p>Gabriel didn’t always read humans well, but he had observed them enough to have an idea which ones were a threat. He tried to jog past the area, but one of them blocked his path.<br/>
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said, holding up his hands.</p><p>He saw one of them raise a baseball bat and managed to dive out of the way so it whooshed by, inches from his head. He was still fast and strong, but he was outnumbered. He still managed to land a few blows that sent the men reeling. One of the men got behind him and knocked him to the ground leaving his ears buzzing. Gabriel felt a wet warmth on his cheek and realized he was bleeding.<br/>
Stunned, he felt one of them going through his pockets to find his wallet but could do nothing to stop it. Apparently disappointed with the amount of cash, the man beat and kicked him savagely until the others dragged him away. Barely conscious, Gabriel tried to call for help, but could only let out a pained groan before the world went dark.</p>
<hr/><p>Returning to consciousness was like climbing up a slippery embankment for Gabriel. First, he became aware of sounds— the rhythmic dripping of a faucet, a high pitched beeping sound, the clicking of heels on polished tile. Next, he became aware of the scent of talcum powder and the pungent sting of disinfectants. The moment he opened his swollen eyelids, the bright light forced him to immediately shut them again.</p><p>Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he focused on a pile of black blankets in a chair, then Aziraphale leaning anxiously over him and Crowley at the door talking to a figure in white in the hall. “Where?” Gabriel asked. It hurt to talk and his head throbbed with every movement.</p><p>Aziraphale clasped and unclasped his hands in front of his waistcoat. “You’re in the hospital. When you didn’t return from your run, Beelzebub went after you. If ze hadn’t found you out there, you might have died.”</p><p>“Where is ze?” he asked, looking around the room anxiously.</p><p>Aziraphale pointed to the chair where Gabriel discovered the pile of blankets covered a softly snoring Beelzebub.</p><p>“Ze stayed with you all night.” Aziraphale replied with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I hurt like Hell. Is this what it’s like to be human? To be weak and in pain?”</p><p>Crowley came back into the room, saving Aziraphale from a rather unpleasant philosophical discussion. “‘Fraid so. Cheer up. It’s not all bad. Doctor says you’ll be back on your feet and being a smug superior bastard again in no time.”</p><p>Aziraphale shot Crowley a withering, distinctly unamused look. “Crowley and I discussed it and for the time being, we think you and Beelzebub should stay with us. Only until you recover, of course.”</p><p>Gabriel looked at Crowley. “And you’re both ok with this?”</p><p>“Of course,” Aziraphale replied, though Gabriel noted Crowley was still not looking at either of them.</p><p>Before Gabriel was discharged, there were a number of humans who visited him, members of his yoga class, his manager and some of his coworkers from the grocer’s, and a few customers that brought balloons or chocolates, much to the amusement of Crowley and the annoyance of Beelzebub.</p><p>“Fitting that you would have such vapid little things flitting around you,” ze said after the last one left. Ze had shot them all icy stares and stood guard from zir chair as if ze suspected they might have intentions of murdering him.</p><p>“They’re being kind. They’re good humans. Well, most of them.” Gabriel sat up and winced as his broken ribs protested the sudden movement.</p><p>“Not like the men who did this to you. If I were still the Prince of Hell, I would devise such tortures for them. I would make them hurt and burn and wish they were never born.” For a moment, Gabriel thought he saw a glint of red in zir eyes, though he dismissed it as a hallucination from the painkillers. Beneath the darkness, there was such passion, such raw emotion and— love. In six billion years, no one had ever loved Gabriel enough to fight for him. Once, he thought She loved him, but that love was conditional, only lasting as long as he was useful to Her. It was nothing like the primal, fierce way Beelzebub loved him. Looking at zir swollen and red-rimmed eyes, surrounded by dark circles, he realized just how much he loved zir.</p><p>When Aziraphale and Crowley loaded Gabriel into the Bentley the next day, they decided not to return to the bookshop and instead drove to Tadfield. They pulled into the driveway of Jasmine Cottage and helped Gabriel out of the car.</p><p>Beelzebub frowned at the rather cheery home. “It’s so sunny here.”</p><p>“Isn’t it great?” Gabriel grinned and leaned on the cane the doctors had insisted he use.<br/>
When he complained about it, Beelzebub made him laugh by telling him that if anyone pissed him off, he could beat them with it in zir characteristically dry tone. Gabriel liked the fact that Beelzebub didn’t treat him like he was made of glass. Ze never pitied him, and wouldn’t allow him to pity himself.</p><p>The mood was light around the dinner table as Aziraphale and Crowley cooked together, even dancing a bit to some old human music from the forties. Where he once would have found the display blasphemous and disgusting, he watched them with curiosity and amusement. They seemed so happy. He supposed it was love, and wondered briefly if he would ever feel love again. His banishment seemed to have happened a hundred years ago, though it had only been around a year since he arrived at the bookshop.</p>
<hr/><p>Gabriel sat awake that night, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain outside, thoughts far away, wandering the halls of Heaven, recalling a time when he had Her favor. For the briefest of moments, when he first woke up in the hospital, the brightness of the lights and the white halls had made him think the Almighty had changed her mind and allowed him back into Heaven. For the first time, Gabriel was conflicted. Instead of feeling a sense of relief or joy, his first emotion was a sense of loss. He had thought of the small things he would miss--the yoga class, the store, the fitness clubs. Then, his thoughts had turned to Beelzebub. She was the one person he almost couldn’t bear to leave behind. If he were to die, if all this were to end, they would be separated forever.</p><p>When he was newly created, Her love had filled every part of him like the warmest sunlight flowing through his veins, and he supposed it had made him arrogant. Each promotion had sharpened his edges a little more until he had forgotten what it meant to be angelic. Gabriel had always been a soldier at heart, though after the Great War in Heaven, he had been deemed too valuable to fight on any front lines, instead becoming a glorified CEO. Gabriel had invented the idea of a CEO and gifted the humans with it, though it was Hell that had perfected the ideas of business meetings with slide shows and humans working in rows of cubicles.</p><p>He remembered the day the team of angels who had formerly been under his command came to deliver the news. She hadn’t even thought him worthy after all his years of service to tell him Herself. Sandalphon, Uriel, and Michael had come, and he had thought it was just another meeting, perhaps to discuss the planning of the final great war with humanity or how to deal with the traitors from both sides. There had been no tribunal or disciplinary meeting, but he had known something was wrong in the way they circled him, in the cold contempt on their faces. They had escorted him to the elevator, one of the many portals to earth, and told him he could never return. In his exile, he could contemplate his failure.</p><p>If he closed his eyes, he could still see Sandophon’s contemptuous gold-adorned smirk, hear Uriel’s condescending words, and see Michael’s derisive glare.</p><p>The mattress shifted beneath the weight of another being, causing him to jump. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, turning his head to see Beelzebub crawling into his bed.</p><p>“I can’t sleep,” ze said by way of explanation.</p><p>“So? I don’t want a demon in my bed. It’s— unnatural.” Gabriel’s lips twisted into an expression of disgust as the demon did the unthinkable and curled up in front of him.</p><p>“Relax. Don’t flatter yourself. I’m cold.” Ze yawned and moved a bit closer even as Gabriel attempted to roll away.</p><p>Noticing the stiffness of Gabriel’s limbs, Beelzebub laughed under zir breath and dryly reassured him. “Your virtue is safe with me, angel.” Ze took one of his arms and slung it over zir waist, muttering, “Stupid angels always worried about their virtue.”</p><p>Once he grew accustomed to the feeling and accepted that there was no demonic base intent behind zir actions, he began to relax. Though he would try to deny it for a long time, the feeling of being so close to another being was somehow comforting and warm since zir tiny form just seemed to fit against his body perfectly. Zir breathing evened out quickly and Gabriel watched Zir dream. Surely, if he wasn’t already damned, this was some kind of treason.</p><p>He was snuggled up to the Prince of Hell, after all. Despite his efforts to stay vigilant, the warmth soon made him drowsy, and he was asleep within minutes.</p><p>As the group had breakfast together, Crowley was the first to broach the subject. “Did you happen to notice Beelzebub sneaking into Gabriel’s room last night?”</p><p>“No? You must have been dreaming. Gabriel would never— they can’t stand each other.” Aziraphale protested, biting into his toast rather aggressively.</p><p>“Angel, for someone so smart, you can be completely oblivious sometimes,” Crowley remarked with a fond smile. “They don’t hate each other anymore.”</p><p>Aziraphale pondered Crowley’s words, searching for the clues he might have missed. Humans could be quite odd, especially where matters of the heart were concerned. “The Prince of Hell and an archangel? I never thought I’d live to see that.” Aziraphale smiled to himself.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, angel. Not that strange really. Look at you and me,” Crowley said, getting up to kiss him softly.</p><p>“Should we tell them?” Aziraphale asked, half-teasing.</p><p>“I don’t know. Let them figure things out on their own,“ Crowley replied, kissing his cheek.</p><p>When their two disheveled charges shuffled in to eat breakfast, Crowley kept looking at Aziraphale and grinning as if to say I told you so.</p><p>“Did you sleep well?” Aziraphale asked, subtly probing and entirely failing at being nonchalant.</p><p>“I did until he started snoring,” Beelzebub said matter-of-factly as ze took zir third helping of bacon. “Like a chainsaw. Louder than any demon.”</p><p>Crowley started laughing, head thrown back until Aziraphale shook his head and tutted at him.</p><p>Gabriel actually blushed, then composed himself, an expression of mortification shifting back to his normal professional smile.“I don’t snore— well— not normally. The pain medications— it’s a side effect.”</p><p>“Are all angels so bloody repressed?” Beelzebub asked.</p><p>“I think he’s the worst,” Crowley said, prompting Gabriel to shoot him a death glare.</p>
<hr/><p>“You just drop them into the hole, then cover the roots with soil. Like this.” Crowley instructed Gabriel and Beelzebub.</p><p>The pair had been driving Aziraphale so crazy with their bickering that he rather insistently suggested that Crowley might want to take them out into the garden sooner rather than later, if he didn’t want to sleep on the couch that night. Gabriel detested getting himself dirty in the garden, but Beez had taken to it rather well and loved the feeling of damp earth.</p><p>“Will you stop standing there, blotting out the sun like a bloody stupid tree?” Beelzebub griped as Gabriel helped zir in Crowley’s garden at the South Downs.</p><p>Ze finished tucking soil around a rose bush and wiped zir brow, smearing dirt all over zir face. Gabriel smiled and knelt beside zir. Reaching out, thinking to brush the dirt away, he ended up smearing it even more.</p><p>“And just what do you think you’re doing?” ze asked dryly.</p><p>“You had a bit of dirt. I was just trying to help.” He handed zir another bulb.</p><p>“Angels— always afraid of getting their hands dirty. In my prime, I led charges on the battlefieId. I didn’t need lackeys to do it for me.”</p><p>“Here we go— now you’ve done it,” Crowley quipped.</p><p>“You forget I fought in the same battles back then. Before She put me in an office.”</p><p>“Before I became Prince of Hell.”</p><p>“Those battles were— glorious. And you were a magnificent adversary,” Gabriel replied.</p><p>“You were a formidable opponent, too,” Beelzebub added with a small smile and a nod.</p><p>Gabriel picked up the watering can, narrowly avoiding sloshing water all over both of them. “Beelzebub— do you remember your old name? Your angelic one?”</p><p>“Hesperus? Never liked it much. Didn’t suit me.” Ze went back to planting bulbs in the earth.</p><p>“Why did you choose to follow Lucifer?” Gabriel’s hand brushed zirs for a moment then he drew it back. Zir hands were small and strong with calluses on the pads of the slender fingers.</p><p>“Is it really that important? I made a much better demon than an angel,” ze replied with an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Tell me? Please?” His voice was quiet, strained, perhaps even gentle.</p><p>“Lucifer’s ideas were revolutionary, at first. He had a way of making you feel important, valued back in those days. He made promises in Heaven he forgot about in Hell.” Zir eyes became unfocused for a moment. “Doesn’t matter anyway. We’re not angels or demons anymore. We’ve gone native.”</p>
<hr/><p>When they returned from Tadfield a couple of weeks later, Gabriel’s injuries had healed enough that he was anxious to return to work and his normal routine. He and Beelzebub still stayed at the Bookshop at Aziraphale’s insistence, where, miraculously, another bedroom had appeared upstairs with a bed large enough for two.</p><p>Gabriel had gone out for his morning run and still hadn’t returned. Aziraphale fretted, taking his frustration out on his toast as the knife scraped roughly over bread, spreading orange marmalade and nearly piercing the toast in the process.</p><p>"I do hope he hasn't gotten hurt or lost. He shouldn’t be out jogging so soon anyway."</p><p>"Relax, angel. I'm sure he's fine," Crowley reassured him.</p><p>"I can’t help but worry about them. They're— I suppose I care about them,” Aziraphale admitted, looking at Crowley expectantly.</p><p>Crowley sighed dramatically. "Oh, alright. They’re not entirely awful. But if they ever do anything to hurt you—"</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. "They won't. They've changed."</p><p>Gabriel returned in a grey tracksuit, holding a cup with a bright green liquid in it and halted any further discussion. “I took yoga today.” He grinned as if the news was very impressive. “And this,” he waved the drink around proudly, “is called a smoothie. It’s horrible, but the humans seem to love them. They pay five pounds for a small one.”</p><p>Crowley chuckled. “Glad to see he’s spending his money wisely."</p><p>"Gabriel, please try to be a little more careful. When you didn't come back, it worried me half to death." The angel soothed his nerves by biting into a warm croissant.</p><p>"I worried you. I'd think you'd want to get rid of me," he scoffed.</p><p>"Maybe once, but not anymore. I care about your safety. You have to be careful with your human body. There's no replacement," Aziraphale admonished.</p><p>"My body’s never been better. I feel great! Running, yoga. It makes me feel alive. I even got invited to a fitness club." Gabriel was grinning now.</p><p>"Well, I'm glad you're making some friends," Crowley said then whispered to Aziraphale, "It will get him out of the house. Don’t complain.”</p><p>Aziraphale just shook his head, worry obvious on his face. When Gabriel excused himself to shower, Beelzebub dragged zirself into the kitchen, still wrapped in a comforter from zir bed, a low grumble like the growl of a wolf coming from zir throat.</p><p>“Good morning,” Aziraphale said humming in a chipper manner as he set a cup of coffee in front of zir and conjured up a plate of fresh bacon. The former demon never thanked him, but ze also always brightened considerably after their customary breakfast.</p><p>Suddenly, Beelzebub’s expression darkened as Gabriel walked into the kitchen wearing only a towel. “Would you put some clothes on? No one needs to see that this early in the morning.”</p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley, who were quite used to Gabriel’s complete lack of modesty, said nothing, although Aziraphale had to stop Crowley from laughing at the way Gabriel’s face reddened and he left, forgetting his coffee cup. He’d looked as embarrassed as Adam had in the Garden suddenly realizing he was stark naked.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 2 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel and Beelzebub find comfort in an old and intimate ritual, wing grooming.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beelzebub had taken to the job of meter attendant very well and by the time ze had been there a year, ze was a supervisor. Ze had the ability to be utterly unflinching beneath profanity, verbal abuse, and begging, and had the highest quota of tickets. Since they both had decent salaries, they were able to move into a larger flat, still close enough for Aziraphale and Crowley to visit.</p><p>The first time he saw zir in the uniform, it had produced a surprising response in Gabriel: it rendered him utterly speechless. It would take him a long time to confess that he was quite fond of Beelzebub in uniform.</p><p>Over time, Gabriel had grown more accustomed to sharing a bed with zir and relaxed to the point that if ze wasn’t there, he would ask when ze was coming to bed since he had trouble sleeping without zir.</p><p>Gabriel learned to cook, maintaining it was so ze wouldn’t poison him. The real reason was that Beelzebub liked to add very unique secret ingredients and make him guess what they were. On any given day, the secret ingredients could be anything from sardines to blades of grass to nutmeg.</p><p>Sometimes, ze would accidentally-definitely-not-on-purpose spill hot sauce or spices into whatever he was cooking, and Gabriel would pretend he hadn’t noticed to humor zir, and also for the satisfaction of proving ze hadn’t rattled him. Both of them were finding more strands of grey in their hair, but they both felt good.</p><p>Beelzebub often caught Gabriel staring at zir. He would always look away, sometimes after ze made a ridiculous face at him and say he had just been lost in thought. Then, ze would have a sarcastic retort about the lack of thoughts in his dense brain. Sometimes, a pillow or two would get thrown and they would both end up on the floor laughing hysterically.</p><p>Beelzebub had a tendency to steal the blankets and wake Gabriel with icy feet brushing past zir own. They both sometimes had nightmares. Beelzebub dreamed about zir Fall, Gabriel dreamed about his banishment. One night, he had extended his hand and ze had taken it and not pulled zir own away. Over time, his human body craved contact more and more and the feeling of an arm or a leg carelessly thrown over him at night and a small body pressed close became welcome.</p><p>Most of their coworkers assumed they were a couple although they hadn’t ever put a name to what they had. The ladies at the store still came to see him, perhaps a few less now that Beelzebub occasionally visited too. One morning as Beelzebub left for work, Gabriel leaned over and kissed zir cheek.</p><p>“What the heaven was that?” ze said, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Goodbye kiss. Human couples do it as a morning ritual. Sorry I should have asked first.” Gabriel looked at his feet sheepishly.</p><p>Beelzebub grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a rather deep and very passionate sort of kiss. “If you’re going to kiss me, next time do it properly.” With that, ze left for work, leaving a stunned Gabriel staring after zir, mouth agape</p>
<hr/><p>When Gabriel returned from his fitness class at the end of the week, he was walking stiffly and his shoulders were slumped. Since Gabriel still occasionally loved to lecture zir about zir posture, ze could only assume he was in pain.</p><p>“What the heaven’s wrong with you?” ze asked from where ze was spread out over most of the couch.</p><p>“Nothing. I probably just pulled a muscle in class.” Gabriel shrugged and chugged water from a silver bottle.</p><p>“You never pull muscles,” ze said, one eyebrow inching up zir forehead like a furry black caterpillar. “Let me take a look?”</p><p>Ze got up and pulled him into the kitchen. “Sit down.”</p><p>“That’s really not necessary.” Gabriel tried to get up, but Beelzebub’s hands held him in place.</p><p>“Sit down.” Ze dug small fingers into the muscles which were tense from the unfamiliar contact, but not obviously injured. “Does anything hurt?” ze asked.</p><p>“No. It feels fine,” Gabriel answered stiffly, trying to conceal the fact that the way ze was touching him actually felt very good.</p><p>Ze dug zir fingers into twin spots around his shoulder blades which caused him to yelp. “Found the problem,” ze said.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked, trying to conceal how much that had actually hurt.</p><p>“Something’s wrong with your wings. Have you been losing feathers?” When ze touched him again, zir touch was gentler.</p><p>“I haven’t really looked at them,” he confessed. “I didn’t know they could manifest on this plain anymore. I thought when my powers faded, my wings would be taken with them.”</p><p>“It takes ages for things to be approved in Hell. Don’t know what took your lot so long, though. Maybe your status as an archangel protected you?” Beelzebub shrugged and reached towards Gabriel who drew back, causing zir to retract zir hand.</p><p>“I think I can help, but you’ll have to let me see them.” Ze could see color creep into Gabriel’s cheeks and kept zirself from chuckling. Angels could be downright prudish about their wings.</p><p>“I don’t know— are you sure that’s a good idea?” Gabriel was nervous, almost endearingly so.</p><p>“I’ll help you with your wings, if you’ll help me with mine.” Ze flexed zir own shoulders, noticing they were stiff in the same area.</p><p>“If you want me to,” Gabriel seemed to relax a little and let himself be led into the bedroom and eased onto the bed.</p><p>“This would be easier with your shirt off. You walk around without one half the time anyway, so I don’t know why you’re so shy now.” Beelzebub waited, even turning zir back a moment.</p><p>He shrugged out of his own shirt and after a bit of hesitation let his wings manifest, sending gusts of air past Beelzebub’s face. They had once been incredibly beautiful, pearlescent white feathers still clung to the weakened bones and cast rainbows when the light hit them. He rolled his neck. “That’s better.”</p><p>“How long have you been losing feathers?” ze asked quietly, one hand tracing the gaps between feathers and the atrophied muscles.</p><p>“A few months, I think. What about you?”</p><p>“The same.” Beelzebub sighed and stretched.</p><p>Gabriel heard the quiet sound like the turning of a large book's pages and felt the gust of air before he opened his eyes to see Beelzebub, pale skin of zir torso exposed and wings unfurled. They were not solid black like he expected but spotted with brown and white like the wings of a hawk. Beelzebub had the same loss of feathers and atrophied tissue, Gabriel noted with an odd sadness.</p><p>“I’ll see what I can do to make them look and feel a bit better.” Ze rubbed zir hands together, warming them, then reached into a drawer on zir nightstand and pulled out a black velvet case. It looked, on first inspection, like the sort of grooming case that was popular in Victorian times with silver handled brushes and small pots of oil. He watched zir, feeling his concern rise up.</p><p>“What are those?” He shrunk back.</p><p>“Only the foulest implements of torture,” ze said with a sardonic smile, then seeing there was a chance Gabe was taking zir seriously, rolled zir eyes. “Oh, for Satan’s sake— They’re just grooming tools. Have you never had your wings groomed before?”</p><p>“I do just fine myself. Besides. I didn’t really want anyone else touching them.” Gabriel shrugged.</p><p>“Let’s see then,” ze said, handing over the grooming kit and watching as Gabriel struggled to reach all the sites, and left a series of kinked and unruly feathers and some areas completely untouched.</p><p>Ze could see him starting to grit his teeth and the deep furrows in his brow, and after watching him struggle a bit, took the brush from his hand. “Ready to let me try?”</p><p>He nodded sheepishly. Ze sat down behind him, legs on either side of Gabriel’s and began to smooth the primary feathers with fingertips and the softest brush, straightening out the kinked feathers as ze worked. Gabriel was quiet except for the little moans of relief that slipped out unbidden. Zir hands skimmed the underside of his left, causing a full-body shiver that made him slump forward, “Is this alright, Gabriel?”</p><p>“It— it feels amazing.” Gabriel almost purred the words, eyes half-lidded.</p><p>Zir hands finished straightening out his feathers and brushing them all, then took the small pot of oil and began to smooth it over his primary feathers until they were sleek again. Next, ze worked on his secondaries, finding several sensitive spots that made him melt against zir. Zir hands skimmed carefully over the smaller covert feathers. Gabriel was hardly able to sit up by the time ze finished the first wing. Once the second one was done, he slumped forward onto his stomach, wings tucked neatly behind him with a content sigh, feeling utterly boneless.</p><p>“Still want to do this on your own?” ze asked with a smirk.</p><p>“No,” he replied. “I’ve never felt so relaxed.”</p><p>“I expect you to return the favor,” Beelzebub said as zir hands skimmed over the areas surrounding his wings up the back of his neck, and into the silvery, very disheveled hair.</p><p>“Really? You trust me with that?” Gabriel sat up, blinking drowsily.</p><p>“Yes.” Ze positioned zirself in front of him, and let zir wings unfurl, nearly hitting him in the face.</p><p>It took Gabriel a few moments to figure out what the hell he was doing, but ze had to admit that he wasn’t bad at it for an angel, maybe a bit too delicate, but he had large, warm hands that felt pleasant. It had been a long time since anyone groomed zir wings, and ze was thoroughly enjoying it.</p><p>Zir covert feathers were particularly soft under his fingers, and he caught himself pressing his cheek to zir wings. Gabriel took his time, sliding fingertips over the primary feathers, straightening each wayward barb and skimming his hands over the secondaries and covert feathers. He oiled each feather to a healthy sheen like Beelzebub had done for him, grinning with each small noise of delight ze was unable to suppress.</p><p>“Pretty good, right?” he asked with a grin, earning him a pillow to the head.</p><p>In another month, their wings were completely gone, perhaps the last tattered remnants of Heaven and Hell had burned away. They each kept a feather from the other's wing with them at all times.</p><p>Even with the loss of their wings, they were happy. They could do silly human things together that they once would have considered entirely mundane— go to ridiculous movies, walk in the park, do their weekly shopping.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 4 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub finds an outlet for zir anger that doesn't involve houseplants and finds a group of humans ze enjoys spending time with.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel was working late and Beelzebub was horridly bored, so ze walked around the neighborhood for a bit. Finding a hardware store, ze stopped in and bought a couple of cans of spray paint then found a large, inviting brick wall.</p><p>Unlike most of the other rude words and nicknames, Beelzebub’s graffiti was elaborate, a mural showing wings stretched out in flames. Ze was so engrossed in zir task that ze didn’t see the rather large man until his motorcycle had illegally driven down the alley.</p><p>“Hey, excuse me!” He got off the bike and shouted at zir. Beelzebub grabbed zir things and prepared to run, eager to avoid a fight ze couldn’t win.</p><p>“Hey, don’t run! I couldn’t keep up with you anyway.” The man’s eyes were warm and honey-colored and his dark beard was speckled with silver. He wore a bandana and a black leather jacket. “I just wanted to tell you I saw your mural from the road and— you’ve got some talent!”</p><p>“So?” ze asked, wary of humans since Gabriel was attacked.</p><p>“So I take this art class up the street every Thursday night. I see you and Gabriel around the neighborhood. I thought it might be a good way to meet new people.”</p><p>“How do you know Gabriel?” ze asked.</p><p>“Everybody knows Gabriel. My partner Christopher has a crush on him. My name’s James. I own the tattoo parlor up the road. I also do some art on the side. Mixed media and sculpture.”</p><p>“Why should I care about any of this, James?”</p><p>The man scratched his beard, obviously used to dealing with this sort of temperament. “I didn’t get your name.”</p><p>“Beelzebub,” ze answered.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is it a stage name?”</p><p>“No. Is yours a stage name?” ze asked, raising zir eyebrow.</p><p>James laughed in response. “Hippie parents?”</p><p>Ze shrugged in defeat. “Something like that.”</p>
<hr/><p>Beelzebub slunk into zir first art class highly skeptical that ze could enjoy it. Ze avoided the other humans until James found zir and insisted on sitting beside zir. “You're here! Can I hug you?”</p><p>Beelzebub was a bit confused as to why someone other than Gabriel wanted to hug zir, but ze didn’t particularly want to offend James, so ze nodded, and found zirself enfolded in an unexpectedly squishy hug.</p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here.” James smiled and released zir.</p><p>“I was bored,” ze replied, still disoriented from being smothered in James' arms.</p><p>“Sorry about him. James is a hugger.” A girl with bright purple hair and piercings in her nose and lip sat on zir other side. “I’m Rose. James told me all about your mural. He said it was very radical. Sort of a celebration of humanity and anti-war. Be careful painting buildings though. It could get you in jail for vandalism.”</p><p>“It was about fallen angels,” ze replied dryly.</p><p>“Right. I get it. The fall of the human spirit.” Rose nodded and smiled as she set out her paints and palettes.</p><p>Beelzebub decided trying to comment that it was in fact just a literal representation of a fallen angel was futile.</p><p>“I’ve got an extra canvas you can use,” James offered, handing over the blank white square.</p><p>“You can share my paints until we get you set up with some of your own,” Rose offered and slid the palette between their easels.</p><p>“I don’t know what to paint,” Beelzebub said, suddenly freezing and contemplating running out of the class.</p><p>“You don’t have to have a plan. Art can be therapeutic. Sometimes I’m really pissed off and I need to unleash my rage,” Rose growled shaking her fist in the air.</p><p>“Just paint whatever’s in your heart, or if it’s still life day paint the fruit basket,” James joked.</p><p>“How long do we have to put up with your dad jokes, James?” Rose asked with an eye roll.</p><p>Beelzebub let her anger and frustration build up and started to cover the canvas with great slashes of reds and oranges, a raging fire surrounding a figure in black. The time passed quickly. Ze found ze liked covering the canvas with paint, filling in the pristine white surface with something chaotic of her own creation. Ze controlled the images there.</p><p>Ze wiped a bit of paint from her hand and jumped when ze noticed Rose was talking to zir. “You’re intense when you paint. I like it! May I see?”</p><p>“It’s not very good. I’ve never had any experience with this before.” Beelzebub protested.</p><p>“It’s very good. James, come look at this!” Rose called him over much to Beelzebub’s annoyance. James agreed as did most of the other students and the instructor.</p><p>Unaccustomed to praise, Beelzebub wished very much in that moment for the floor to swallow zir up and return zir to the fiery pits of Hell.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 5 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley gather the Dowlings and Youngs and Newt and Anathema for Gabriel and Beelzebub's first Christmas party.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale and Crowley decided to throw a Christmas party since it had been too long since they had seen their human friends. It was a simple affair, although Crowley and Aziraphale’s definitions of simple were vastly different. They had even posted invitations to the Dowlings and the Youngs hoping to see Adam and Warlock again.</p><p>Beelzebub and Gabriel had their own ornaments on the tree and were helping them decorate Jasmine Cottage while an old record of Christmas songs played in the background. Beelzebub and Crowley would commiserate about how much they hated most Christmas music. “It’s awful and gets into your head. Are you sure it isn’t ours?” Crowley asked, straightening out a garland.</p><p>“Yes. Far too cheery to be one of ours." There was something catlike about the way the Former Prince of Hell handled the tinsel as if ze would rather fancy batting it around instead of hanging it on the wall.</p><p>“I’ve got to get away from it for a minute.” Crowley went back into the kitchen to check on Aziraphale.</p><p>Aziraphale was cooking, or mostly miracleing a roasted goose and ham, yams and yeast rolls and all sorts of casseroles and mulled wine for the adults to enjoy. “Do you think you made enough food?” Crowley asked, eyeing the huge spread assembling itself on the table.</p><p>“Oh, I do hope so,” Aziraphale fretted. “It will be nice to have all our friends together in one place.</p><p>“Let’s just hope Gabriel and Beelzebub behave themselves,” Crowley muttered watching as Gabriel chopped wood for the fire outside. “Showoff,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>Newt and Anathema arrived first, carrying a covered dish and a stack of presents. “It’s so good to see you guys. Merry Christmas,” she said, hugging them both. Newton carried a huge stack of presents that Crowley imagined Anathema would consider excessive and wore a Christmas sweater with a very large reindeer.</p><p>“Newton, you’re looking well. Oh, dear. Let me help you with these.” Together, Aziraphale and Crowley set the gifts on the table.</p><p>Gabriel came in with a stack of firewood bellowing Christmas carols. “Good king Wencelas last looked out—” He nearly dropped the stack of wood seeing the humans. “Ah— Computer guy and Book girl. Sorry I forgot your names.”</p><p>“Since we’ve never actually been formally introduced, I’m Anathema Device and this is my husband, Newton Pulcifer.”<br/>
He shook their hands very enthusiastically.</p><p>“You’re the one who stopped the nuclear missile crisis.”</p><p>“Yes,” Newton said or rather squeaked, suddenly fearing Gabriel might decide to seek revenge.</p><p>Gabriel just nodded and called, “Beelzebub! The humans are here.”</p><p>Ze came in still wearing a garland around zir neck and nodded. “I remember you two.”</p><p>There was an awkward silence before a knock on the door saved them from further small talk. The Dowlings arrived with Warlock who was almost as tall as Aziraphale now. It had taken quite a bit of explaining and many slammed doors before they had been permitted to visit Warlock again after so many years. Warlock had blue streaks in his hair and carried some sort of gaming system in his hands.</p><p>He took a break from gaming to say hello and hugged Crowley particularly tightly, but otherwise seemed permanently attached to the gaming system, much to Aziraphale’s disappointment.</p><p>“Young man, don’t you think it’s rather rude to visit your uncles and hardly speak to them?” Gabriel asked.</p><p>“This is boring. I wanted to go see the lights in the park, but instead we had to have this family dinner.” Warlock sighed dramatically then returned to his game.</p><p>Gabriel stepped aside and pointed Warlock out to Newt who grinned and walked over, peering over Warlock's shoulder at the display. “Oh? I heard about this one. It’s supposed to be really good. Mind if I have a go?”</p><p>“Sure,” he shrugged, handing it over before Aziraphale and Crowley could intervene.</p><p>Newt started playing, and in five seconds, the screen glowed red and then turned off.</p><p>“Hey, what did you do?” Warlock asked.</p><p>“Nothing. I just started playing and that happened.”</p><p>Crowley took Warlock aside and assured him that under the tree he would find a new game system that he should definitely not let Newt touch.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Newton offered. “I have a way of breaking computers. I can replace it for you.”</p><p>“That’s ok. I’ve had it a while anyway,” Warlock told him with a long sigh.</p><p>Another knock at the door announced the Youngs’ arrival. Adam bolted into the room and went straight to Aziraphale and Crowley, almost bowling them over, then to Newt and Anathema.</p><p>“Look at you, you got so big,” she told him.</p><p>“I missed you guys.”</p><p>“How’s school and how’s the gang?” she asked.</p><p>“Pepper wants to be a human rights lawyer and she keeps making us play trial. Brian wants to play football next year, and Wesleydale joined the math club. We made bottle rockets and launched them in the wood. Then Pepper organized this Earth Day clean up and it rained and we all ended up getting muddy and going swimming in the lake.”</p><p>“Sounds like a busy summer. Don’t grow up too fast.” Anathema ruffled his hair, noticing he was almost as tall as she was now.</p><p>Beelzebub fixed zir eyes on him, arms crossed and a bit wary. It was Adam that spoke first.</p><p>“Hello. It’s ok. I’m not angry at you if that’s what’s worrying you."</p><p>Beelzebub didn’t answer, but zir shoulders relaxed. "You’re not?"</p><p>Adam shook his head. "You were just doing your jobs. How come you don’t have your fly hat anymore?”</p><p>“Gabriel isn’t an angel anymore and I’m not a demon. We were banished.” Ze explained matter of factly.</p><p>Gabriel was in the corner, staying silent and not making eye contact with Adam. “The boy who ended the Apocalypse,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>Adam ignored the remark, blue eyes remarkably kind and wise. “That wasn’t very nice of your bosses.”</p><p>“Adam!” Warlock finally showed enthusiasm and ran up to the other boy, throwing an arm around his neck. “Hey! Do you want to go outside?”</p><p>“Sure!” Adam whispered. “Please save me from the adults. They’re so awkward."</p><p>The Dowlings and Youngs talked amongst themselves about Hedge funds and car maintenance and school PTA meetings. Anathema talked to Beelzebub about her role as an activist and occultist (more activist these days). Aziraphale and Gabriel were discussing the invention of various Christmas carols in another corner.<br/>
All in all, Crowley thought the day was going better than he expected. Sneaking outside, he joined in the snowball fight, transforming into his serpent form and hiding in a snowbank, then bursting out of it to attack both boys with a volley of snowballs.<br/>
Beelzebub went outside to escape the talk of so many good works for a moment and was caught in the crossfire of their snowball fight. Scowling as the first one hit zir face, ze was not about to let it go and hit Crowley squarely in the face with one.</p><p>Gabriel watched through the window for a few moments before he joined Beelzebub’s side, pelting the boys with snow until he tripped and all of them bombarded him with snowballs. They somehow all ended up laughing and covered in wet snow.</p><p>Aziraphale went outside and muttered, “Oh, dear” under his breath. “Dinner is served if you would be so kind as to join us in the dining room.”</p><p>The conversation was light and they all filled their plates more than once during the night. Gabriel went outside for a moment to gather his thoughts and sat on the steps in the snow-covered garden. He didn’t hear Adam approach until the boy was sitting beside him. Forcing himself not to flinch, he looked at him, not knowing what to say.</p><p>“It’s alright. I know what you’ve been wanting to ask me,” Adam said softly.</p><p>“You— you do? I— I know I don’t have any right. It’s just— I’m not very good at this whole being human thing. I knew how to be an angel. And Beelzebub knew how to be a demon.”</p><p>“I wish I could fix you, but I can’t.” Adam said, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper.</p><p>“I understand. After what we were going to do—” Gabriel looked at his feet again.</p><p>“No. It isn’t that. I don’t have the power to fix you guys,” Adam explained.</p><p>Gabriel sighed. “I was hoping that maybe if anyone could, you could.”</p><p>“Being human is kind of like growing up. You figure things out as you go. Not even adults really know how to do it.” Adam offered him a small smile.</p><p>Gabriel nodded. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah. Not even my parents. Mum was running late, so she put her sweater on backwards and dad completely burned the casserole and had to buy one from the store. Nobody’s perfect.”</p><p>Gabriel had to smile at that. “You know, right now I’m glad things turned out the way they did. You’re going to be a pretty amazing adult."</p><p>Adam smiled and suddenly Gabriel remembered the box resting in his pocket and fished it out. "I brought you a present.”</p><p>Adam took it and opened it carefully. Inside, resting on velvet, was a very elaborate fountain pen with Adam’s name printed on it. It was the sort of gift you would expect a man retiring from ten years at a bank to receive, but Adam smiled and replied, “Thanks! This will be great for writing my stories!”</p><p>They went back inside and more presents were opened. Anathema had gotten Beelzebub some music from an indie music store and books for Adam and Warlock. For Gabriel, she had gotten some self-help books about success in management. Newton had found a fitness DVD he thought Gabriel would enjoy and a black hoodie for Beelzebub. The parents and Aziraphale and Crowley surprised the kids with some of the newest toys.</p><p>Remote controlled drones Crowley had found at an absurdly expensive tech store were a particular hit, although the boys were careful to make sure they stayed far away from Newt. Beelzebub had found some interesting fossils for Adam and a sleek, modern high-tech speaker system for Warlock. Warlock received an identical monogrammed pen from Gabriel which he tucked politely in his front pocket after Adam elbowed him in the ribs. Aziraphale and Crowley presented the fathers with ties and cufflinks and the mothers with scarves and fine perfumes. For Newt and Anathema, who had never been able to go on a proper honeymoon, they had arranged for them to take a trip.</p><p>Gabriel and Beelzebub were quite amazed as neither had ever received gifts before.</p><p>They had planned something special for Aziraphale and Crowley and waited until the guests had left and all goodbyes were said before they presented them with their gifts.</p><p>Gabriel and Beelzebub had done some research and asked Crowley what manuscripts Aziraphale would particularly like and had managed to find an Egyptian book of the dead on papyrus.</p><p>For Crowley, they had settled on a very sleek and expensive art piece of a black and red serpent that was made by Beelzebub’s friend. “So when you’re at Aziraphale’s, your plants will behave,” ze told him.</p><p>Aziraphale pulled a folder out of his pocket adorned with bows. “I’m afraid you’ll have to see these things when you get home.”</p><p>There were two pictures inside, one was a state of the art fitness room, the other was an artist’s studio outfitted with all the supplies any artist could ever dream of. “They’re wonderful pictures, but I don’t understand.” Gabriel stared at them, completely oblivious, and Crowley snorted.</p><p>“I think you’ll find your house just added two more rooms. Quite miraculously.” Mischief twinkled in Aziraphale’s eyes like sunlight sparkling on a clear blue lake.</p><p>“Thank you. They’re wonderful gifts,” Gabriel said quietly, rather humbled by the exchange.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 6 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel suffers a heart attack and realizes his own mortality. Will he finally find courage to take the next step with Beelzebub?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For another year they settled into a comfortable routine. Beelzebub and Gabriel had finally allowed themselves to be called a couple, maintaining that it was simply easier than disagreeing with everyone and it allowed them to get better discounts.</p><p>Jonathan’s health was failing, so Gabriel was now managing the store full-time and coaching a fitness club on the weekends. While not always the nicest instructor, he was certainly the most motivational. In summer, when he wore a particular pair of running shorts, people lined up around the building to take his class.</p><p>Beelzebub had started creating sculpture and mixed media works and had entered several art shows at James and Rose’s insistence and won prizes. There was even talk of zir having an exhibition soon since no one had ever seen anything like zir particular style. Ze was quite chimaerical with an extraordinary view of the world. One judge had once proclaimed zir style a bit like Jackson Pollack, Rothko, and Caravaggio combined. Ze had become so successful as an artist, ze had given up zir job as a meter attendant.</p><p>The phone rang, and ze ignored it; however, whoever it was on the other end was quite insistent, so ze finally set aside her palette and answered. “What do you want? I’m busy.”</p><p>The voice that answered was shaky and strained. “This is Beth from Gabriel’s yoga class. Something’s happened. Your— Gabriel collapsed in class today. They’re taking him to the hospital now.”</p><p>Beelzebub dropped the phone. Momentarily stunned, ze suddenly turned and slammed zir fist into the canvas, knocking it to the ground.</p>
<hr/><p>Aziraphale and Crowley met zir at the hospital where they waited anxiously to see Gabriel. Ze was pacing the hall, still covered in red paint and attracting stares from the nurses. “Bastard can’t do this. It isn’t fair. He can’t leave me alone here.”</p><p>“I’m sure he’s going to be fine,” Crowley reassured. “He’s too stubborn to die.” He started pacing the hall, too as the silence dragged on, no one feeling up for talking. Suddenly, Aziraphale heard a faint dripping sound and saw the blood falling from Beelzebub’s hand.</p><p>“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale reached for zir hand then asked, "May I?"</p><p>Ze nodded and he took zir hand, turning it over to examine it. “I thought it was just paint. You’ve cut yourself. Let me take care of it for you.” He traced the cut on zir palm with his fingertips and the wound closed before zir eyes. “There. Good as new.”</p><p>“Thanks. I must have done it working in the studio.” Zir voice trailed off as ze remembered how many times ze had chased Gabriel out of the studio, unwilling to let him see zir work.</p><p>“I heard there's going to be an exhibition of your work. I want to be the first to buy one of your paintings,” Aziraphale said, offering zir a kind smile, trying to make zir feel more at ease.</p><p>“You already have three,” ze said, a faint smirk tugging at zir lips.</p><p>“The portrait you made for our anniversary was lovely. You managed to capture Crowley’s eyes so perfectly.” Aziraphale smiled.</p><p>They fell into an awkward silence again that lasted several minutes until Beelzebub jumped up. “This is ridiculous! We should have heard something by now!</p><p>“My dear, I’m sure they’ll be out any minute now,” Aziraphale said, trying to calm zir before ze burst through the doors that separated them from the intensive care unit.</p><p>“Damn fool overdid it. He thinks he’s a bloody teenager. Has to work out so he fits into those ridiculous shorts.” Beelzebub kicked a nearby wall.</p><p>Crowley was presently miracleing the vending machine to provide more of his angel’s favorite snacks. “Gabriel always has to be dramatic. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” He banged on it, causing several packs of crisps to fall out that had miraculously appeared seconds before.</p><p>“I’m going to kill him for this. I swear!” Beelzebub cursed and slumped back into a chair.</p><p>“Now, you don’t mean that,” Aziraphale said gently.</p><p>Beelzebub looked at Crowley, then back at Aziraphale. "Could you two fix him? Please?"</p><p>“We can’t, my dear.”</p><p>“Can’t or won’t?” Beelzebub crossed zir arms, hugging zirself in the chill of the hallway.</p><p>“Can’t. If we could help him, we would. I promise,” Aziraphale assured zir. “Major miracles won’t work. We can ease pain, heal small cuts, but we can’t do anything that might interfere with Her Will.”</p><p>After what seemed like hours, the doctor came out looking far too serious for Aziraphale’s liking. “How is he, doctor?”</p><p>“Your friend has had a heart attack. We had to perform a bypass operation. He’s stable and resting comfortably for now.”</p><p>“Oh, thank goodness,” Aziraphale whispered.</p><p>“Will he be alright?” Beelzebub asked anxiously.</p><p>“He’s strong and in good physical condition, but the procedure isn’t without risk. He’s going to have to take it easy after this. No more running and no more fitness classes.”</p><p>Beelzebub nodded, knowing how devastated Gabriel would be by the restrictions. “When can we see him?”</p><p>“You can see him now, but only for a few minutes. He was asking to see someone named Crowley alone.”</p><p>“Me? Are you sure?” Crowley looked at Beelzebub who just shrugged and sunk further into zir black hoodie.</p><p>“He was quite insistent about it,” the doctor replied.</p>
<hr/><p>Crowley sighed, wondering what Gabriel was up to as he followed the doctor into the room where Gabriel was hooked up to an IV , multiple beeping monitors, and he had an oxygen cannula in his nose. This Gabriel wasn’t haughty or arrogant, he looked weary and pale. A large bandage covered most of his chest, and when he spoke, his voice was dull and weak.</p><p>“Crowley, come in. Sit down. Afraid I can’t offer you a drink. God knows I could use one right now.”</p><p>Sitting awkwardly in the stiff-backed chair, Crowley looked at Gabriel expectantly. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the beeping of the monitors.</p><p>“I need to say something to you in case this operation doesn’t work. I may not get another chance.” Gabriel took a deep breath, the effort making him tired.</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Don’t talk like that.” Crowley shook his head.</p><p>“If there’s a chance that I won’t, then I need you to listen.” Gabriel’s voice was breathy and weak. He looked out the window for a moment then composed himself, taking a deep breath. “What I did to Aziraphale was wrong. He’s been nothing but kind to me even though I didn’t deserve it.”</p><p>“No, you didn’t,” Crowley said without any real bite behind his words.</p><p>“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry and I hope one day you can forgive me.” Gabriel sighed, the admission draining his strength.</p><p>Crowley blinked, at a loss for words for a moment. There was a long silence where Crowley glanced at his wristwatch and Gabriel fidgeted with the bedclothes.</p><p>Finally, Crowley spoke up, not entirely comprehending Gabriel's words. “You're— sorry?”</p><p>“I know it isn’t enough, but I can’t change the past, so I just have to promise you that I consider you both friends. The first real ones I ever had." The monitors continued their steady beeping and somewhere out in the hall, a doctor was paged. “Damn it, Crowley. You know this isn’t easy for me. I’ve never apologized to anyone.”</p><p>Crowley stretched and sighed. “Nevermind. You’ve changed since then. Just— stay alive,<br/>
alright? If you die, it would make Aziraphale sad and I don’t even want to think about how the Prince of Hell would feel.” A secret smile tugged at his lips.</p><p>“Wait— so you forgive me?” Gabriel’s gaze shot back up to Crowley.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. I forgave you a while ago. Just had to make you sweat a little.” Crowley winked at him.</p><p>Gabriel relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders.. “Thank you, Crowley.”</p><p>"Don’t mention it. Can't have people thinking I was easy on you." As he got up to leave, he lowered his sunglasses and winked.</p><p>“Hey, Crowley? Would you do something for me before you leave?” Gabriel pointed to the closet where his clothes were hanging.</p>
<hr/><p>Beelzebub seethed when ze was allowed to see Gabriel. “Finally decided to summon me, did you, your lordship?” Ze bowed mockingly, but Gabriel was accustomed enough to zir mannerisms to know zir behavior was hiding deep hurt.</p><p>“I should have asked for you first, but there was some unfinished business I needed to take care of.” He sighed, looking forlornly at the monitors.</p><p>“I understand. I suppose I know where I stand with you. Always a demon. Always unworthy. Even after all these years.” Ze paced the room.</p><p>“You know that’s not true, Beez. I care about you.” Gabriel reached towards a drawer in the bedside table, but fell back against the pillows too weak to open the drawer himself. He hoped Crowley had done as he asked and found what he asked him to.</p><p>“Are you sure? I dropped everything and rushed here thinking that I’d find you cold and covered in a white sheet.” Zir eyes were stinging, and ze felt tears burning zir cheeks. “Look at me. I’m leaking. It’s downright embarrassing.”</p><p>“I’ve never seen you cry before.” Gabriel reached out for zir. “I wish I could stand up— hold you.”</p><p>“Demons aren’t supposed to cry.” Ze wiped zir tears away with the back of zir hand. “I need some air.”</p><p>“Wait!” Gabriel called out. “I need you to do something. Inside that drawer you’ll find a bag. I need you to take it out and look inside.”</p><p>“What are you playing at, angel?” Ze sighed and went to the drawer and removed the small bag. Inside was a small black box.</p><p>“I wanted to do this properly, but this will have to do. I’m afraid I can’t get down on one knee.” Gabriel smiled sadly. “Open the box, please.”</p><p>Beelzebub opened the box and lifted the small ring with a blank look. Ze held up a ring with a black diamond surrounded by rubies. “What’s this?”</p><p>“Beelzebub, would you marry me properly? I love you and I want to show the world what you are to me.” The expression in the violet eyes was hopeful and rather terrified. "I didn't want to do this in a hospital. I'm sorry it's not— better. I might not have much time, but I want to be with you for the rest of my days."</p><p>Beelzebub silenced his doubts with a kiss, then mindful of his fragile condition, settled as close to him as ze dared.</p><p>"Is that a yes?" Gabriel asked with a grin.</p><p>"Yes, you idiot," Beelzebub answered, zir hand finding his.</p>
<hr/><p>"I do hope I brought enough," Aziraphale muttered, staring at a huge assortment of baked goods, chocolates, and takeaway containers from half the restaurants in the city.</p><p>"Aziraphale, I think you brought enough to feed a legion," Gabriel said with a faint chuckle.</p><p>"There’s a sandwich in there for you too, Beelzebub. It's called a BLT, bacon, lettuce, and tomato. I also brought you some coffee."</p><p>Aziraphale rustled bags until he found the right container and handed it to zir.</p><p>"Thanks," ze replied, taking it gratefully. Ze hadn’t slept very much and chugged the coffee in a few gulps.</p><p>"There’s a coffee for you too, Crowley," Aziraphale handed Crowley his cup with a fond smile.</p><p>"Gabriel, I didn't forget you. " Aziraphale smiled.</p><p>"I don't know. The doctor said no coffee or salty foods." Gabriel’s face assumed a very serious expression.</p><p>Crowley muttered, “Goody two-shoes,” under his breath.</p><p>"Quite right," Aziraphale replied and reached into another bag to retrieve a green smoothie. “Kale and strawberry. Full of iron and antioxidants. That nice woman from your yoga class suggested it. A few of them came by to visit while you were asleep.”</p><p>“Did they?” Gabriel smiled, though the small tug of his lips was fleeting.</p><p>“They wouldn’t shut up,” Beelzebub offered. “How do you stand the constant noise?”</p><p>“After a few years, you get used to it.” Gabriel smiled recalling all the conversations he had mostly listened to with a mixture of fondness and confusion.</p>
<hr/><p>Beelzebub helped Gabriel from the taxi, steadying him and walking him inside. His pride demanded that he walk, even though he was still weak. “Home sweet home,” he muttered.</p><p>They had to wade through a sea of flowers and tokens to get to the couch. Beez helped him sit down carefully. “Are you hungry?”</p><p>“Not really. Sit with me?” Gabriel held his arms open. Once, Beelzebub would have<br/>
made a caustic remark about his neediness, but since his heart attack, ze didn’t mind being close to him. Ze needed the reminder that he was still alive, still there. Carefully, noticing the slight grimace and his stooped shoulders, ze leaned against him and wrapped zir arms around him.</p><p>“Alright, but don’t get used to it. I have things to do now that someone’s taking a vacation.”</p><p>“It’s only for six weeks. Sharon’s filling in until I’m back on my feet.”</p><p>“You don’t have to go back. We’ll be alright. I have a few shows coming up.” Beelzebub looked up at him, wishing he wouldn’t insist on endangering himself.</p><p>“It’s not too late to change your mind— about marrying me,” Gabriel said with a deep sigh. “No one would blame you.”</p><p>“In sickness and health, remember? Besides, a heart attack is not going to get you out of it.” Ze laughed softly as they fell into their normal, teasing pattern and kissed him carefully.</p><p>“So you still want me even though I’m— damaged?” Gabriel asked, his whispered words warming the crown of zir head.</p><p>“Who isn’t damaged?” ze replied with a wry smile. “Gabriel?” ze looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, somewhat drowsy from the lack of sleep.</p><p>“Hmm?” Gabriel ran a hand through zir short black hair, dotted with occasional splotches of red paint.</p><p>“Would you sit for a portrait for me?” Beelzebub asked, the small hand around his middle holding him tighter.</p><p>“You want me to do that? Why? Why now? I don’t exactly look good.” His speech was halting and anxious, not at all his usually confident and occasionally boisterous voice.</p><p>“You’re still my Tree. The operation didn’t change that. It will take a few hours, but seeing as neither of us has anywhere to be—” ze trailed off.</p><p>Gabriel smiled at the nickname. Beez had called him Tree for years due to his height and tendency to stand in zir way. Aziraphale once told him ze had also confessed that he made zir feel safe like a sheltering tree.</p><p>Ze sat Gabriel in a chair ze had purchased just for portraits. Ze had started out doing portraits of Crowley and Aziraphale, Warlock and Adam, and Newt and Anathema then Rose and James and most of the members of zir art class. People said ze had an uncanny ability to capture the soul of a person on canvas.</p><p>Soon, people began coming to their home to sit for portraits from all over London to see themselves through zir eyes which had a “chimaerical gaze ranging from whimsical to sinister.” (That was what one of the art critics had written, anyhow.)</p><p>“What do I do now?” he asked, watching zir get out zir assorted palettes and paints then sketch on a blank canvas.</p><p>“Hold very still and try not to talk too much. I know that will be almost impossible for you, but please try.”</p><p>“Alright,” Gabriel replied, starting to fidget already. Self-consciously, he tugged the top of his shirt up.</p><p>“What are you doing? Hold still.” Ze sighed, rubbing zir temples in exasperation.</p><p>“Sorry— scar was showing.” Gabriel frowned at the few inches of red, corded skin exposed.</p><p>“So let it. It’s part of you. You’re still my beautiful, clueless himbo.” Ze smirked and started to paint Gabriel’s vivid violet eyes when ze noticed they looked a little misty.</p><p>“What is it, now?” Although zir expression was initially sour, concern soon creased zir brow. “Are you hurting?”</p><p>“No— it’s just. You think I’m beautiful.” Gabriel grinned and Beelzebub threw up zir arms and rolled zir eyes.</p><p>It was a long time for Gabriel to sit, he dozed off several times or tried to peer at the canvas. He could only discern vague details— splashes of violet and sepia and ivory, but he could see his partner’s face as ze worked, the look of concentration deepening the tiny wrinkles around zir eyes, the beading of sweat on zir brow, the way the lean muscles in zir arms flexed with each brush stroke. He simultaneously enjoyed the intensity of zir gaze and felt more vulnerable than he ever had in his life. Ze took a break to get Gabriel his pills and water, and he wasn’t quite fast enough to sneak a peek.</p><p>Beelzebub cleared zir throat in irritation. Normally, ze would have been quite cross and shouting, but ze didn’t dare risk putting any strain on Gabriel’s heart. “You can see it once I’ve finished and not a moment before. I never show unfinished work.”</p><p>Gabriel shrugged sheepishly. “Alright, alright.”</p><p>Hours later, Beelzebub cleared zir throat. “You can look now. I hope I got your eyes right.”</p><p>Gabriel stood behind zir at the canvas and looked at the portrait of himself, rather stunned. “It’s— is that how you see me?” The Gabriel in the portrait was as handsome as the real Gabriel, but there was something in that image, a sad weariness that gave the image a sort of somber magnetism, like the suffering of saints in Renaissance paintings.</p><p>“You don’t like it?” Beelzebub aggressively cleaned zir brushes while ze spoke.</p><p>“No— I’m just surprised,” he replied. “I look—”</p><p>“Like a lot more than a himbo. Like a pretty interesting guy. Deceptive, I know.” Ze laughed and threw a pillow at him, then they were tangled up on the couch, kissing like teenagers, as much as Gabriel’s condition would allow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 61/2 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub and Gabriel prepare for their wedding.</p>
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    <p>Beelzebub stood in black sweatpants with zir arms crossed stifling a laugh as Gabriel stretched in indecently short shorts and a tank. Crowley leaned against the wall, also getting quite a laugh out of the display. Beelzebub noticed the moment Aziraphale came in with a stack of records and books, Crowley smiled fondly and watched every move. Aziraphale had chosen to dress for the occasion in a top hat and tails.</p><p>“Ready for your lesson?” He smiled kindly. “Gabriel, you must tell me if you need a break.”</p><p>“I’ll be fine, Aziraphale. How hard can it be?” Gabriel watched as Aziraphale set out a chart displaying foot work on the floor.</p><p>Aziraphale stood in front of them and asked, “Have either of you given any thought to what sort of dance you would like to do? The foxtrot, the waltz, the gavotte?” His voice had a hopeful lilt on the last suggestion.</p><p>“Perhaps something more modern, angel?” Crowley whispered.</p><p>“We’ll just start by putting on some music so I can see how you move.” Aziraphale adjusted the gramophone and “Embraceable You” started playing.</p><p>Crowley started to dance around Aziraphale slinking around him, hips gyrating. Aziraphale grasped his hand, then he and Aziraphale were dancing together, spinning effortlessly. Crowley dipped him then returned him to his feet. “Come on, don’t be shy. You try it,” Aziraphale encouraged.</p><p>Beelzebub was the first to try, swinging zir hips and throwing zir arms up wildly and circling Gabriel then lying on the floor doing something that might have been break-dancing combined with the worm.</p><p>“Nice one,” Crowley said, his grin fading when Aziraphale elbowed him in the ribcage. “What? At least ze’s enthusiastic.”</p><p>Gabriel meanwhile was staring and awkwardly moving from one leg to the other and occasionally moving one arm around.</p><p>“Is he dancing or having some sort of fit?” Crowley quipped.</p><p>“Gabriel— that is—” Aziraphale searched his thoughts for the most inoffensive word. “One sort of movement, but you need to be more fluid."</p><p>“He means you look like a drunk robot,” Beelzebub said with a loud snicker.</p><p>Gabriel shrugged and stopped moving. “It’s not my fault. Angels don’t dance.”</p><p>“Last time I checked they don’t do yoga either,” Crowley said, placing his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders, shaking them gently.</p><p>“What are you— hey—” Gabriel’s voice vibrated with each movement.</p><p>“Relax, Gabe. Just getting you to loosen up.” Crowley went back to Aziraphale and muttered. “Well, at least he’s mastered dad at a wedding.”</p><p>“Let me work with you together,” Aziraphale said. He led Gabriel over to the open area and then Beelzebub so they faced each other. “Now, Gabriel place your hand on Beelzebub’s waist like so and your other hand on zir shoulder.”</p><p>Beelzebub’s eyes narrowed. “Why does he get to lead?”</p><p>“Only because he’s taller and it will be a bit easier, my dear,” Aziraphale soothed.</p><p>“Now, your hand rests on his shoulder and you take the other hand—” Aziraphale trailed off as Gabriel’s eyes widened as he noticed Beez’s hand on his bottom.</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. “No, not there. Take his hand, please.”</p><p>“I guessed wrong,” ze said by way of explanation and took his hand.</p><p>“Now, just step out one two three like so. Crowley, dear would you help me?”</p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley stood beside them and demonstrated. There were quite a few bruised feet and near falls, but the couple soon began to figure out a natural rhythm and were laughing. Gabriel even dared to lift the much smaller Beelzebub of zir feet to zir delight.</p><p>“Much better. That's tickety-boo,” Aziraphale said smiling at the expressions of joy on their faces.</p><p>“They might not be completely hopeless,” Crowley offered.</p>
<hr/><p>It was two days before the wedding and Aziraphale was enjoying planning the affair. Gabriel and Beelzebub had left most of the details in his hands, and he’d scoured every florist in town to make sure everything would be perfect. Gabriel was just getting back on his feet again, and he didn’t want anything to be too taxing for him, so he sat in the bookshop, arranging centerpieces. It would have been far easier to assemble them through a miracle, but fussing with the tafeta and ribbon helped soothe the angel’s anxiety. They had rented Jasmine Cottage for the wedding, and Crowley was working late to make sure he had given the garden plants enough motivation to look their best.</p><p>The door to the bookshop swung open and in walked a very nervous looking Gabriel. “Ah, Gabriel, I was hoping you’d stop by. What do you think of these?” He waved a hand at an antique card table covered with floral arrangements.</p><p>Gabriel looked at them and muttered a polite and preoccupied, “They look great.”</p><p>“Why do I have the feeling you didn’t come to talk about wedding preparations? What’s troubling you?” Aziraphale looked at him kindly and gestured to a chair. “Won’t you sit down?”</p><p>Sinking into a chair, Gabriel opened and closed his mouth, and gestured absently, finally managing. “I need to ask for your advice. You’ve been on Earth a long time.”</p><p>Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Since the beginning. How can I help? Wedding jitters?”</p><p>Gabriel got up, paced around a bit, then sat down again. "We're friends. Right?"</p><p>"Yes," Aziraphale smiled reassuringly.</p><p>"Can I rely on your discretion?" Gabriel looked around the shop anxiously.</p><p>"Of course." Aziraphale sat up in his chair.</p><p>After a long silence, Gabriel blurted out, “I need to know about human sexual relations.”</p><p>“What?” Aziraphale blinked, blindsided by the request. “Ah— what do you want to know?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, but I know it’s customary for married couples to take a honeymoon and consummate the marriage on their wedding night. So— I got to thinking. What if Beelzebub wants us to— you know? I don’t want to disappoint zir. But it’s not like I ever— indulged. I just want zir to be happy.”</p><p>"You don't know about sex?" Aziraphale asked, rather surprised given Gabriel's age and experience.</p><p>Gabriel hurriedly answered. "I have a general idea of the mechanics, but human behavior wasn't really my department.”</p><p>“Don’t fret. I have some books on the subject,” Aziraphale searched the shelves, pulling several volumes from the self-help and romance section. “Here. These should help.”</p><p>Gabriel thumbed through one with colorful illustrations of naked humans in all sorts of acrobatic positions. “Oh my… do you and Crowley do this?”</p><p>Aziraphale almost spit out the tea he was sipping. “We’ve done some of them occasionally, but there are lots of other ways to be close. Sometimes we just kiss and cuddle. We share a bed. From time to time, we take hot baths together. We talk all night sometimes and watch the sun come up. These things can be just as enjoyable. Making love can be lovely, but it isn’t necessary for a relationship to be meaningful and intimate.”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled kindly and sighed. “Gabriel, I think you should talk to your partner about this. There isn’t one perfect answer that fits everyone.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to talk to zir about it,” he confessed looking at his hands.</p><p>“Just be honest with zir. You love each other very much. I’m sure you can figure these details out together.” He got up and poured Gabriel some hot tea then added a smidgeon of brandy. “But you have to communicate and talk about what you both want and don’t want and make sure whatever you decide you’re both comfortable with it. It doesn’t matter whether you make love every night or only occasionally or not at all.”</p><p>Gabriel accepted the tea and let the warmth seep into his hands, then sighed. “Alright. I can do this. I’m getting married.”</p>
<hr/><p>Two days later, Gabriel was sweating profusely and getting his salt and pepper hair in a disarray running his hands through it as he waited in one of the bedrooms of Jasmine Cottage. “I can’t do this. I definitely can’t do this.”</p><p>Aziraphale chased after him with a comb and pomade, fixing his hair as he tried to calm him. “There now. Yes, you can.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter because I probably won’t survive the wedding anyway. The Almighty will probably strike me down.” He struck his palm with his fist emphatically and made a loud boom sound then laughed nervously.</p><p>"That won't happen." Aziraphale worked on fixing Gabriel's tie, one selected to match the unique shade of his eyes, then straightened out the lapels of his royal blue suit and attached a lavender and lily boutonniere with care. “You look splendid.” He walked Gabriel over to the mirror and stood him in front of it with a smile.</p><p>Gabriel looked at himself and nodded. “Not too bad for a human.”</p><p>Aziraphale patted his shoulder. “I remember our wedding. It was just the two of us at Jasmine Cottage and a few friends. I was terribly anxious, just like you. Then I saw Crowley waiting for me and smiling at the end of the aisle, and I remembered how much I loved him.”</p><p>“I hope that Beez and I will be as happy as you and Crowley are. Ze’s probably not nervous at all.”</p>
<hr/><p>“I can’t do this. This was a stupid idea.” Beelzebub fiddled with the blue suit. (Ze would have preferred black, but Aziraphale had negotiated until they settled on blue.) “What am I doing marrying an angel anyway?”</p><p>“If it makes you feel better, he’s a former angel, and technically you’re not a demon anymore,” Crowley offered.</p><p>“Thank you so much for the reminder, Crowley.”</p><p>“It’s going to be fine. You managed not to kill him yet. I would have done that ages ago.” Crowley adjusted the red bloom in zir boutonniere. Zir graying black hair was growing out, and he struggled to brush it out with zir fidgeting the entire time. Somehow, he managed to tuck a few red flowers into zir lapels before ze was pacing again.</p><p>“I could run. Pack a suitcase and leave a note,” ze said with a groan.</p><p>“You could. I hear Rio is nice. Bit crowded.” Crowley followed zir around the room with a lint brush, willing to be patient and wait until ze had calmed.</p><p>“He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s my idiot. And we understand each other.” Crowley took advantage of zir standing still for the moment to finish straightening zir collar.</p><p>“And?” Cowley prompted.</p><p>“Yeah, alright. You had to make me say it. I love the bastard.”</p><p>Crowley snorted and guided zir to the mirror, saying, “I really worked my magic this time. What do you think, Lord Beelzebub?”</p><p>“It’s alright. I think I’d look better with a few boils.” Ze said, smirking slightly.</p><p>“Afraid I’m out of those,” Crowley chuckled.</p>
<hr/><p>Once the last of the guests had finally left them in peace, Gabriel put his arms around Beelzebub and kissed the top of zir head. “They’re finally gone.”</p><p>“I know. I think if I had to smile for one more minute, I would have spontaneously combusted.” Beelzebub pulled flowers from zir suit and loosened zir tie.</p><p>“You have a beautiful smile,” Gabriel said, feeling relieved now that he was alone with his spouse. “Shall we— ah— retire?”</p><p>“Yes, please. I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.” Ze stretched and went to change.<br/>
Gabriel stripped down to his undershirt and blue boxers and sat down on the edge of the bed. Ze came out in zir red silk pajamas and flopped onto the mattress, turning zir head to look at him.</p><p>“What is it, Tree?” Ze sat up and reached out, running a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Beelzebub— I know human couples often consummate their marriages on their wedding nights so I read a few of Aziraphale’s books to prepare. I found what I read confusing and not really appealing.” He held his hands up to stop zir from interrupting. “But if it’s something you want, then I’m willing to try. I could give you pleasure.”</p><p>“And what makes you think that’s what I want?” Beelzebub asked.</p><p>“I just thought— I— ah—” Gabriel floundered, searching for words.</p><p>“I’m perfectly happy with what we have. I don’t particularly care if we do or we don’t. If you decide you want to try one day then we can.”</p><p>Gabriel relaxed immediately, tension in his shoulders easing. “You really don't mind?"</p><p>“Come here,” ze said and opened zir arms for him. Gabriel curled up beside zir and kissed zir, loving his spouse more than ever.</p><p>“So— what now?” Gabriel asked.</p><p>“Now we play croquet. What do you think we do? We sleep. I’m bloody exhausted.” Ze rested zir head on his chest and wrapped zir arms around him tightly. Gabriel’s amused smile was buried in zir silver hair.</p><p>Gabriel returned from walking; running was completely out of the question since his heart attack. He snuck past the bed and into the bathroom, trying not to wake Beez who was snoring quietly beneath the covers, the sound like a swarm of buzzing flies. He undressed, eyeing his reflection disdainfully. He used to be quite vain and he still clung to the tattered remnants of his pride. His body was marred now with scars from open heart surgery and other medical procedures and little blemishes from falls and accidents around the house. While he was still in decent shape for a man his age, his body was softer now. He winced and must have made a pained noise without realizing it.</p><p>Beelzebub was at the door, pounding on it moments later. “Gabriel? Gabriel? Are you alright?”</p><p>He found his voice, although he could barely speak around the lump in his throat. “Yes— be out in a minute.”</p><p>“Let me in or I’ll break down the door. Something’s wrong.”</p><p>“Just let me get dressed.” He scrambled for his robe, unable to put it on before Beelzebub burst through the door.</p><p>“We’re married. I’ve seen everything before,” Beelzebub said, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“That was before the surgery. I just need to take a shower. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Gabriel insisted.</p><p>“I need to get one too. We can take one together.”</p><p>“I thought you wouldn’t want to after— everything.” Gabriel couldn’t look at zir until ze stood right in front of him.</p><p>“I was a demon. A few scars are hardly enough to scare me away.” Ze discarded zir tank top and boxers on the floor and stretched. Gabriel had to stop himself from staring too long.</p><p>Ze noticed him staring at zir with unexpected fondness and sighed. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up. I’m freezing out here.” Ze turned on the hot water and waited for Gabriel to step into the spray.</p><p>Beelzebub climbed in beside him, wrapping zir arms around his chest and ever so gently letting zir fingertips brush the scars until the tension in his limbs eased and he melted against zir.</p><p>“It doesn’t bother you to touch them?” Gabriel asked, closing his eyes.</p><p>Ze kissed his chest, zir lips soft and pleasantly warm against the long line that ran down the center of his chest. “This is a reminder that you survived. That you’re still here with me. Besides, I have a few of my own. Do they bother you?” Ze moved in front of him, gesturing to a few old and new scars that marked zir pale skin. Beelzebub had chosen to keep some of zir scars from the Great War with Heaven and over the years, they’d become familiar to Gabriel. He’d stopped thinking of them as flaws long ago.</p><p>“No. Of course not,” he replied hurriedly.</p><p>“Then why on Earth should yours bother me?” Ze caressed his shoulders, kneading the muscles, massaging the scarred areas where his wings had once been and working out the knots in his back with gentle care.</p><p>“That feels better. Thank you.” He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck.</p><p>“Just don’t think you’re getting away with not returning the favor,” ze teased and moved to stand in front of him.</p><p>His large hands rested on zir shoulders and started massaging with firm pressure that he knew ze liked best, his attentions earning him a sound rather like the purring of a housecat dozing in a sunbeam.</p><p>It was a familiar and safe way of adoring each other’s perfectly imperfect human bodies for these beings who still struggled with admitting their need for contact. Even though their corporations were slowly falling to ruin like the erosion of marble statues, they found acceptance and reassurance in each other’s arms.</p>
<hr/><p>Beelzebub had several paintings hanging in galleries and museums all over the world now. After years of refusing, ze had finally agreed to shorten zir name to Beez for promotional reasons.</p><p>There was one particularly striking piece with Gabriel as zir reluctant model that was particularly loved. It was meant to be a surrealist depiction of Gabriel losing his wings, but the art critics had described it as “a metaphor for man’s fall from grace and loss of freedom in a postmodern world. Gabriel, in typical Gabriel fashion, had described it as “really something.”</p><p>Beelzebub knew how much his inability to do some of the things he once enjoyed frustrated him. Ze caught him kicking the weight bench and pushing one of the smaller weights to the ground. Ze raised an eyebrow, crossed zir arms, and cleared zir throat. “You know, if you want to break something, I have something much better.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have allowed myself to do that. I’m sorry.” Gabriel forced a smile. “We should do something else with this room. Maybe a second studio for you?”</p><p>“Come on. You’re allowed to be angry about this,” ze said as ze grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen then pulled a stack of plates out of the kitchen cabinet.</p><p>“What are we doing with those?” Gabriel watched as she lifted up one of the dishes.</p><p>“We’re going to break them,” Beelzebub answered with a grin.</p><p>“We can’t. Can we? That doesn’t seem— right.” Gabriel shook his head and moved to return the dishes to the cabinet.</p><p>“Oh, no you don’t.” Ze leaned forward and swatted his hand away. “Aren’t you pissed off that you can’t do what you used to?”</p><p>“Well, yes, but—” Gabriel started to protest, but was cut off by Beelzebub gleefully smashing the first dish.</p><p>He looked at the shattered dish with something like revulsion for a moment then shrugged. “I suppose I’m a little angry.” He raised the dish then his expression darkened and he smashed it on the floor with a guttural scream that would have scared most humans.</p><p>“That’s more like it!” Ze pulled another dish off the stack and broke it. “I’m angry this happened to you. I’m angry about being banished after billions of years of service. I’m angry about losing my powers.”</p><p>“I’m angry that I can’t do anything anymore. I’m angry that I’m weak. I’m angry that humans have always had to go through— all of this.” Gabriel slammed three dishes at once.</p><p>“That’s the spirit! Feeling better?” Beelzebub asked.</p><p>“Actually— yes,” Gabriel replied, looking around at the aftermath. “God what a mess.”</p><p>“It isn’t so bad. Demons thrive on chaos like this.” They laughed heartily and embraced, mindful of the broken glass, then worked on cleaning up the mess together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 8 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH THAT IS TEMPORARY!  Gabriel experiences the pain of losing someone he loves.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel woke up and stretched, looking over at Beelzebub, sleeping soundly on the other side. The press and galas lately had zir exhausted. Ze’d been slowing down, having some    episodes of dizziness, almost fainting in zir studio once. The doctors had prescribed two blood pressure pills and recommended rest. They were both getting older and having to be more careful, he supposed, although they often joked that Beelzebub had been far healthier and luckier than Gabriel over the long years.  </p><p>He smiled and sat up, preparing to go make coffee, when he noticed ze hadn’t stirred. “Beez?” Gabriel hated to wake zir, but ze needed to be up and dressed soon. </p><p>“Love— I hate to wake you, but if you don’t wake soon, you’ll be absurdly late.” Bracing himself for a tirade or perhaps a pillow to the face, he gently shook zir shoulder. Ze didn’t move at all, so his hand ghosted over zir cheek. Zir skin was ice cold. Getting out of bed and moving to zir side, Gabriel began to panic. “Beelzebub? Wake up!” Gabriel knew ze was far too still. He knelt and checked for a pulse, pressed his tear-stained cheek to zir chest and sank to his knees by the bed. “No, no, no, no no…Wake up! Don’t you dare leave me here alone!” </p><p>Somehow, he made his violently shaking hand curl around his phone and call the paramedics. Other humans would fix this, he told himself. The humans would know what to do. Ze was young, still in the prime of zir life. He called Aziraphale, one hand clutching Beelzebub’s.  </p><p>Aziraphale and Crowley made it there before the paramedics, and when they found him, he still hadn’t let go of zir hand. "You have to fix zir. Please! I'll do anything!" Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder. "There’s nothing we can do. I'm sorry." </p><p>The paramedics came, and it took both Crowley and Aziraphale to pry Gabe away from Beelzebub. "You have to let them see to zir. They're trying to help." </p><p>The paramedics shook their heads. The taller man moved his hand from zir wrist where he had been searching for a pulse. He looked at the smaller man. “Time of death 7:30. Ze's gone. There’s nothing we can do. I'm so sorry." </p><p>The agony Gabriel felt was worse than the stabbing pain of his heart attack that crushed the breath from his lungs. It was worse than anything he'd ever felt, and he knew that a part of that pain would linger forever. </p><p>He sat staring into a coffee cup after they had taken zir away and pressed brochures about funeral arrangements and grief counseling into his hands. Aziraphale and Crowley sat beside him, stunned and trying to offer what words of comfort they could. Gabriel didn't drink the coffee or move. It was as if his head were wrapped in cotton wool. He was numb to everything but the pain he felt. When he finally spoke, he kept muttering. </p><p>"It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to go first. I'm the one with the bad heart!" </p><p>"Beelzebub passed peacefully in zir sleep. Ze didn’t suffer," Aziraphale told him. "We all loved zir very much." </p><p>“This is Her way of punishing me even more. Now, I have to live here alone.” Gabriel choked and a new wave of spasms wracked his frame. </p><p>“You’re not alone. We’re still here with you.” Aziraphale told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Gabriel nodded weakly in response and did not speak again until the funeral.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. 81/2 Years Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS TEMPORARY MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! It may be skipped and the fic may be continued from the epilogue.  After 6000 years, Gabriel is weary, and his time grows short.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel knelt by Beelzebub’s grave, face drawn and pale, arthritic knees obviously hurting from the way he winced when his joints creaked in protest. Aziraphale and Crowley stood nearby at a respectful distance, attending him, but trying not to be too invasive. Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel they were witnessing a sacred moment, something private they shouldn’t be seeing. Gabriel began to speak, his voice like the creaking of a rusty hinge because he hadn’t used it much since Beez died.</p><p>“I always thought I’d be the first one to go. Hell, sometimes, I thought you’d be the one to murder me in my sleep.” He chuckled for a moment, then cleared his throat and placed a small-potted cactus with a single flower on the soil, his attention turning to where his two companions waited under the shade of a tree. “I know roses are traditional for humans, but ze hated them. This is better. Reminds me of zir. Beautiful— yet kind of prickly. And strong.”</p><p>“I think ze would have liked it very much,” Aziraphale assured him.</p><p>Directing his attention back to the grave, Gabriel spoke in a softer tone, barely audible. “You were such a pain in my ass. We fought like crazy. Like cats and dogs. And— and—”<br/>
There was a moment where Gabriel’s head was bent low, his shoulders shaking with the effort of trying to hold in his sobs. Witnessing this very human creature breaking down in front of them was almost more than Aziraphale could bear, yet he did not approach in order to save the man’s fragile pride.</p><p>“And I am going to miss you so damn much. Why did you leave me here?” Gabriel’s sobs turned into a low keening wail.</p><p>Finally, Aziraphale and Crowley knelt on either side of him, Aziraphale rather awkwardly patting his back until he collapsed onto both of them, and they sat there holding him until he had no more tears to cry.</p><p>“Where do you think ze is?” he asked almost childishly in the Bentley. “Do you think there’s any chance ze’s in Heaven?”</p><p>Aziraphale looked at Crowley as if to silence any honest answer he might give. The truth was, neither one of them knew, and both feared he might attempt drastic measures in order to be with Beelzebub again. “I think anything’s possible,” Aziraphale said gently.</p>
<hr/><p>That night, once Gabriel had been coaxed into eating a few biscuits and tucked into bed, Aziraphale waited for Crowley to join him, holding, but not actually reading, a book of poetry. He was restless, shifting himself around on the bed, fighting with the sheets unable to get comfortable without Crowley’s lithe frame pressed against his own, real and solid and comforting. As soon as his husband returned to bed, he rolled into his open arms and nuzzled his chest, words a soft thrum over Crowley’s heart. Aziraphale needed to hear his heartbeat, whether it was necessary or not to prove to himself that Crowley was still very much alive and with him.</p><p>“Where do you suppose Beez is?”</p><p>“Back in hell, I would think. It’s not like they let you back in Heaven once you fall,” Crowley said bitterly.</p><p>“Do you remember Beelzebub as an angel?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p>“Not something you could really forget. Ze was always singing and flitting about like mad,” Crowley chuckled.</p><p>“Quite a saucy angel as I recall.” Aziraphale smiled at the memory of a rather small impish angel who was infinitely curious about everything and fiercely intelligent. “There was something rather adorable about zir too.”</p><p>“Adorable? You’re joking, angel.” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “I remember ze was terrifying. Especially in holy weapons training. Hit the instructor with a smiting rod once.”</p><p>“Oh dear,” Aziraphale muttered and draped his leg around Crowley so he was touching every part of him he could. “You don’t suppose— you don’t suppose he’ll try— that is— to end it?” Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought.</p><p>“God— Satan knows what he might do right now.” Crowley shook his head.</p><p>“We have to prove to him life’s still worth living.” Aziraphale’s whisper warmed Crowley’s shoulder.</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to live without you, angel,” Crowley confessed.</p><p>“You won’t have to, dear man. I’m not going anywhere.” He said it confidently, although in the back of his mind, there was a faint, gnawing doubt. If Gabriel and Beelzebub could become mortal and die, perhaps one day they would meet the same fate. Aziraphale kept these nagging doubts to himself, but held Crowley more tightly than usual and didn't let him go until morning.</p>
<hr/><p>When Aziraphale and Crowley woke that morning and decided to prepare breakfast for the three of them, they were met by Gabriel who had dressed in his finest suit. His hands rested on a small suitcase filled with pictures and a few of the most cherished possessions he had amassed during his years on earth.</p><p>“Morning, Gabriel. Going on a holiday?” Crowley asked.</p><p>“Hello, shall I put on the kettle, love?” Aziraphale asked, kissing Crowley’s cheek.</p><p>Neither one missed the slight grimace or the way the former archangel’s hands clawed at the case witnessing the display of affection.</p><p>“I’ve decided to move into the retirement home after all,” Gabriel stated as matter of factly as if he were stating he fancied marmite on toast.</p><p>“What? Why? Is something the matter with your room? We can change it?” Aziraphale offered then nudged Crowley’s elbow.</p><p>“You could use my flat if you like,” Crowley offered.</p><p>“Thank you, but I can’t stand the emptiness there and I can’t stay here any more. Too many reminders of zir. Ze’s everywhere I look.” He looked as if he might burst into tears for a moment, before he composed his face into his neutral, all business expression.</p><p>“If that’s what you really want, we'll give you a lift," Crowley offered.</p><p>"I made arrangements for the home to pick me up. They'll be here any minute." Gabriel tapped on the case absently for a moment then outside a car pulled up and honked its horn twice.</p><p>"If you don't like it, all you have to do is call and we'll come back for you." Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder, the bones protruding sharply beneath his fingers.</p><p>"Thank you— for everything." Gabriel stood and nodded to both of them as he shuffled out the door and into the street.</p>
<hr/><p>Aziraphale insisted on visiting Gabriel at the care home that Sunday afternoon. When they inquired about him at the desk, the middle-aged nurse smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "Gabriel, yes, all the ladies certainly seem quite taken with him. They call him the dreamboat with the stunning violet eyes. And—" She leaned forward to whisper, "All the nurses think he's a silver fox."</p><p>Aziraphale gave her a charming smile and as she walked them to where he sat with his back to them, contemplating the garden from a wooden bench, a grey dressing gown drawn around him over the crisp white shirt and grey trousers. The nurse continued to babble, most of it not enough to hold their attention. “Oh, yes. He’s such a dapper gentleman. All the ladies want to win his heart, but he turns all of them down.”</p><p>Aziraphale noticed Gabriel still wore his wedding ring. “He lost his partner a few months ago.”</p><p>“Oh, how sad. Poor man,” the nurse tutted before making a hurried excuse about having paperwork to do and patients to see to.</p><p>“Gabriel, you’re looking well,” Aziraphale said.</p><p>“Don’t lie to me, Aziraphale. I look like hell,” he said with a wry smile.</p><p>“I’ve seen Hell, Gabriel. You look worse,” Crowley said with a chuckle, knowing Gabriel had developed a sense of humor over the years. These days, Aziraphale supposed it reminded him of Beelzebub’s teasing remarks and made him feel more normal.</p><p>“I’m dying,” Gabriel explained with a sigh and a detached shrug.</p><p>“That’s preposterous,” Aziraphale objected. “You can’t be dying.” He set aside the bundle of books and packets of biscuits he brought to sit beside Gabriel on the bench.</p><p>“My heart’s failing. The doctors give me a few weeks at most.”</p><p>“Are you sure? We could try other doctors? A specialist maybe? There must be something to help—” Aziraphale clasped and unclasped his hands in front of him, feeling utterly helpless.</p><p>“It would only prolong the suffering. I’ve been alive since the beginning of time and I’m tired.”</p><p>“You’re coming home with us,” Aziraphale said with finality. He couldn’t stand the thought of the once proud archangel languishing in a care home alone, and perhaps he still had hope that perhaps a cure could be found.</p>
<hr/><p>Aziraphale rented a cottage by the sea, large enough for all of them to have their own bedrooms, but small enough that he and Crowley would be close by. In the golden light, standing at the edge of the ocean, Gabriel at first had jumped back from the waves in fear, then, when Aziraphale explained that it wouldn’t harm him and the feeling was actually quite pleasant, he had gingerly dipped a bare foot into the water with an expression of complete and utter disgust on his face as if he had bitten into a lemon. A smile soon blossomed on his face once he became accustomed to the water.</p><p>“This is— wow! I think this was one of Her best ideas!” He kicked the sea foam and dug his feet into the sand and scooped up handfuls of the sea water like a child.</p><p>“You mean a bloody archangel’s never seen the ocean before?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“I suppose not,” Aziraphale said sadly, tucking his arm around Crowley’s back and watching the old man wading in the shallows, for once not fussing over getting his finely tailored clothes wet.</p><p>They had several good weeks of dining in little oceanside cafes, walking on the boardwalks, and teaching Gabriel about flying kites, collecting shells and building sandcastles. Gabriel thought listening to the ocean was like listening to the heartbeat of the world. Crowley had looked at him strangely, wondering when he turned into a damned poet.</p><p>Three weeks passed like this, and on the fourth, Gabriel’s cough worsened. Aziraphale went through his pills, counting twelve of them in assorted shapes and colors as he tried to assist him. Aziraphale placed a hand on his arm, closed his eyes and concentrated, intending to transfer a bit of angelic healing energy. He wanted to at least try. Somehow, over the long years, Gabriel ceased to be an enemy and became a friend, and Aziraphale didn’t want to lose him. Gabriel cried out as if burned and Aziraphale stopped and apologized.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t know. I wanted to help.” Aziraphale drew back and poured him a glass of water. Gabriel drank it gratefully, catching his breath. Crowley heard the coughing and brought the oxygen unit.</p><p>“It’s not your fault, sunshine,” he whispered softly, and this time Aziraphale knew the epithet was meant as an endearment rather than a slur. “Crowley tried last week and the same thing happened. Nothing can stop Her will.”</p>
<hr/><p>They took turns carrying him outside to a chair since he soon became too weak to walk more than a few steps. Aziraphale read to him at night and Crowley told him stories, often wholly inappropriate about their time on earth that made him laugh so hard he sometimes had trouble catching his breath, prompting Aziraphale to lecture them both. Aziraphale caught Crowley sneaking Gabriel chocolate and salty crisps and the expensive brandy he fancied, and sometimes they argued over it, although if it made him happy in his last days, how could Aziraphale deny him those comforts?</p><p>One day, Gabriel asked Aziraphale to pray for him, and the request caught him off guard. “I can’t do it myself, Aziraphale. I’m cut off from Heaven. I haven’t heard her voice in years.”</p><p>“And— you want me to do this? I’ve never been a very good angel,” he confessed with a slight flush coloring his cheeks.</p><p>“You’re still a principality. I don’t know any other angels on Earth.” There was no sarcasm in his voice, none of that haughty pride or sometimes obtuse remarks he passed off as wit. Right now, he was a fragile man humbling himself with an earnest request.</p><p>“Gabriel,” Aziraphale cleared his throat, feeling a lump forming there. “I would be honored to pray for you."</p><p>Aziraphale had begged for mercy for Gabriel, and that begging had turned into a rather desperate ranting and tearfully asking why. Crowley, bless him, held his husband close and tenderly kissed each tear away.</p>
<hr/><p>Aziraphale knew that Crowley understood the pain of having his connection to heaven severed, that glorious light snuffed out as quickly and easily as blowing out a candle. Even though Gabriel wasn’t truly fallen, he had encouraged Crowley to talk with him, and they had become like veterans on different sides of the same war meeting to swap stories. They discovered that many of the things they felt were the same.</p><p>Crowley came in looking sad and tired after one of their talks by the sea. Once he had carried Gabriel inside and helped him into bed, he poured himself a large glass of wine and slumped into the armchair across from Aziraphale.</p><p>“What is it, Crowley?”</p><p>Leaning forward, he whispered although there was no need since the new pain medication the home care nurse brought for him made Gabriel sleep deeply now. “He asked me what Hell was like.”</p><p>“Oh dear,” Aziraphale poured himself a glass as well. “What did you tell him?”</p><p>Crowley stammered. “Ah— ngk— I— ah— told him not to worry. That I was sure he wouldn’t end up there.”</p><p>“Oh, my dear boy. Are you sure that was wise?” Aziraphale sighed and bit into a leftover eclair from his favorite local bakery.</p><p>“What was I supposed to say? You’re probably going to be damned for eternity or cease to exist and by the way, they love to torture high ranking former angels in Hell.” Crowley set his glass down so hard, the glass made a noise of protest almost like a high pitched cry.</p><p>Aziraphale suddenly lost his appetite and discarded the rest of the pastry. “Of course not.”</p><p>In a moment, Crowley embraced him tightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. What would you have said?”</p><p>Aziraphale considered for a moment then replied, “I suppose I would have told him that I didn’t know.”</p>
<hr/><p>Over the next few days, Gabriel began to depend on them for even the most basic needs. Thankfully, to allow him some dignity, Aziraphale and Crowley were able to miracle him clean and into and out of clothes. He stopped eating, and when Aziraphale put him to bed at night, he could feel the fragile bones getting more and more prominent every day.<br/>
The visiting nurse shook her head when she took his vital signs and let them know they could increase pain medication if needed to keep him comfortable. Aziraphale couldn’t tell her that they had been taking turns easing his pain for weeks. It was the least they could for him.<br/>
Gabriel soon stopped asking to go outside and drifted in and out of lucidity. They didn’t dare leave him unattended and took turns watching over him. Crowley would bewitch the walls and the ceiling to show tropical islands, the rainforest, or a night sky full of stars since Gabriel’s entire world had been reduced to a single room.</p><p>One day, when Aziraphale went to the window to let in the salt air and sunlight, he turned to find the violet eyes awake and aware, imploring him silently. He approached the bed and looked at Crowley who got to his feet and went to Gabriel’s other side, frowning at the erratic ECG readings. Gabriel’s hands twitched on the bed and he looked first at Aziraphale then at Crowley, trying to smile.</p><p>“You musn’t exert yourself so,” Aziraphale said, taking Gabriel’s hand. Delicate blue veins were visible beneath the translucent skin, stretched as thin as tissue paper over the fragile bones.</p><p>Crowley took his other hand. “I’m here too. It’s alright.”</p><p>“I—” Gabriel's breath came shallowly and he struggled to speak. “Is Beez here?”</p><p>Aziraphale stammered and it was Crowley who rescued him. “No. Ze’s not here, but you’ll see zir soon.”</p><p>Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment and he relaxed. When his eyes opened again, he fixed his gaze on Aziraphale who forced himself to smile despite the tears he could feel scalding his cheeks.</p><p>“Aziraphale— I’m afraid.”</p><p>Leaning closer, Aziraphale whispered, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re going to close your eyes and imagine yourself in a beautiful garden. Can you see the roses, feel the sun warming your skin?”</p><p>Gabriel closed his eyes and a smile tugged at his lips as he listened to the hypnotic cadence of Aziraphale’s voice as soothing as a lullaby. Crowley touched his forehead, and Aziraphale felt the energy of Crowley's miracle easing any pain Gabriel might feel in his last moments.</p><p>When Gabriel opened his eyes again, his gaze was faraway and peaceful. “I can smell the flowers.”</p><p>"Beelzebub is waiting for you in zir wedding suit. It's just a bit dirty. You’re both young again, and there’s no more sickness or pain. No reason to be sad ever again."</p><p>When he looked at Gabriel again, the violet eyes had grown glassy and vacant and he felt the hand he held grow slack. His passing had been like the first breeze of autumn rustling the trees. There was no glow of heavenly light, no angelic chorus, just two celestial beings quietly weeping for their mortal friend.</p><p>Aziraphale checked for a pulse, then nodded to Crowley. He closed Gabriel’s eyes, and together they drew the covers up and said their last goodbyes to the enemy that had become a friend, to Gabriel, the first of the archangels, and Gabriel, the man.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beelzebub and Gabriel, no longer suited for Heaven or Hell, are reunited on Earth as ambassadors to humans.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by blinding white light. There was a pleasant sort of heaviness in his limbs as if he had woken from a long, deep slumber, then a feeling of being filled with warmth and the light of Her love.<br/>
Somewhere between sleeping and waking, he thought he heard a soft voice, barely more than a whisper saying, “Welcome home, beloved. You did well.”</p><p>When he could focus his eyes that were sensitive as a newborn’s, he discovered he was wearing his best suit again. Gabriel tested his legs and found his joints no longer ached and creaked. Examining his hands, he found they were the strong unblemished hands of a man in the prime of his life once more.</p><p>He approached a tall, white door where a small bearded man perched on a high stool waited behind a white marble desk and peered down at him. He recognized him as Heaven's immortal doorman. (And if he hadn't remembered him, the man wore a large blue name tag that read "Hello, my name is Peter.")</p><p>"Gabriel. Welcome. As you can see I'm Peter," he said pointing to the nametag with a grin and nasal laugh.</p><p>"Am I— on the list?” Gabriel asked, still slightly disoriented. He recalled now that Peter was incredibly long-winded.</p><p>The bearded man checked his heavenly registry a bit disappointed with his haste as it had been a slow day and he hadn't had many people to talk to.</p><p>"Let's see. I'll just check my list here. Gennifer. Well, who spells that with a G? Then Grant and Oh, silly me. Here we are.” Looking up with a smile, Peter said, “You’re all set. I’ll buzz you in.” He pressed a button and a door slid open revealing the white shining halls of heaven.</p><p>Gabriel was an angel again. He’d earned Her forgiveness after all and with it, his powers and his grace were restored. His heart sank at the thought that it was a hollow victory without Beez. He checked heaven’s registries over and over hoping to see zir name, but he couldn’t find zir.</p><p>Gabriel made inquiries with a few angels he knew and they told him how Heaven had been following his progress and witnessed how he learned compassion, love, and suffering from living as a mortal. Apparently, watching the adventures and trials of Gabriel and Beelzebub were popular pastimes in Heaven and Hell. She was so impressed that She returned him to his angelic state.</p>
<hr/><p>After a while, Gabriel asked the Almighty for a reassignment to return to earth as sort of an ambassador to the humans. It was in a small cafe in San Francisco that he found zir again sprawled sideways in a high-backed black chair. Zir hair was shorter than he remembered and ze had substituted zir old suit for oversized black jeans and a black and red flannel shirt.</p><p>“You took your time getting here,” ze said without any real malice.</p><p>“How— I couldn’t find you.” He swayed on his feet a moment, still getting reacquainted with his Earthly corporation.</p><p>“Head office didn’t really know what to do with me, so they gave me a choice. Stay in Hell or back to Earth.”</p><p>“So you chose Earth?” he asked with a grin.</p><p>“I knew I’d find you here.” Ze approached and his hand grazed zir cheek as if he couldn’t quite believe ze was real. “How did you know?” Ze asked, leaning into the touch.</p><p>“I’d know your presence anywhere. We were married, after all.” He looked down at zir hopefully.</p><p>“Were? You’re not getting out of it that easily. Maybe we should start over. I could propose this time.” Ze smirked.</p><p>“You should buy the ring this time,” Gabriel shot back.</p><p>“We both know I have better tastes.” Beelzebub pressed zir lips to his, silencing any objections.</p><p>After a moment, ze drew back. “You could have stayed in Heaven. Why did you choose Earth?”</p><p>“Heaven just didn’t feel— right anymore,” he confessed.</p><p>“Neither did Hell,” ze said then stood back a moment with zir arms crossed. “But I am still a demon, so don’t go thinking I’m going to convert.”</p><p>“I missed you,” he whispered and hugged zir so tight, he lifted zir a few inches off the ground. Their lips met in a frantic kiss, something else he had missed terribly.</p><p>Once the kiss was broken, ze slid to the ground and took his hand. “Try not to screw this up by saying something stupid.”</p><p>Gabriel leaned in and kissed the smirk off zir face and together they walked out into the bright midday sunlight and into their new lives. The future stretched out before them like a river running towards an endless tranquil sea. Perhaps soon, they would visit two old friends in London where they would be welcomed with open arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading this fic! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment here or a message on my tumblr, ineffablelawr.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to Dee, meinposhbastard, a truly wonderful beta who would not let me give up even when I wanted to hit delete! Your help, advice, and thorough beta-reading helped shape this fic! Dee is an incredible writer! Please, go check out her fics at meinposhbastard!</p><p>Thank you to demonicxiconic for beta help!</p><p>I know I took a risk writing these characters as asexual/demisexual which may read OOC for some readers. I was a bit self-indulgent as an ace person. </p><p>I cared for my mom for the last six years of her life through dementia, a stroke, and her last days in hospice. Good Omens was the last thing we watched together, and even as her mind was failing, she declared it--"absolutely delightful." This fic helped me heal after the loss of my mom and process my grief.</p><p>Beelzebub and Gabriel's relationship dynamic closely matches that of my relationship with my wonderful partner, @eriathalia, a talented artist and writer and the one cool enough to be the Beelzebub in the relationship. Thank you for cheerleading, suggestions, and beta help,  and for loving me exactly as I am.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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